The 100: Same as Me
by pirateboots
Summary: Sequel to The 100: Like Hell I Do. A year has passed since Lexa retook her throne. In that time, the Kongeda has enjoyed peace. But the unexpected arrival of Luna threatens to throw the Kongeda back into chaos, and the world is about to get a lot bigger. Threats emerge from all directions and Clarke and Lexa's progress at forging a better life for their people hangs in the balance.
1. Monin Houm

_"We were both waiting for something to happen, Clarke, admit it," Lexa voiced her thoughts aloud. She wasn't sure if stating the fact helped or embittered her further though._

 _Clarke creased her brow and puffed out a breath. She bobbed her head. "Alright," she said, conviction in her voice now, "So now that something has, what are we going to do?"_

 _Now Lexa managed a smile, a bright one. For although she had always been certain that something would one day interrupt their rather blissful life, she had also known that as long as whatever occurred was faced side by side, everything would turn out well. She and Clarke would weather every storm headed towards them together and come out stronger than ever on the other side. They always did._

* * *

Clarke let out a sigh as she took in Lexa's statement. She noted the way Lexa's jaw tensed in response to her own cynicism. _'We were both waiting for something to happen, Clarke, admit it'_. Clarke didn't want to admit that Lexa was speaking the truth. She didn't want to confess that she had been placing mental bets with herself. Bets on exactly how long their quieter way of life would last. On how long they could keep up their routine, until something came along and thoroughly uprooted it. There was guilt in boredom. Shame in feeling like you are constantly waiting for some new excitement, when the content you've found should be enough. It was enough. But when something so big comes along, you start to question if that's how you truly felt. Clarke swallowed.

"Alright," she finally said, trying to find the strength to bolster herself and Lexa both, "So now that something has, what are we going to do?"

Her attempt at conviction made Lexa smile, really smile, and Clarke felt her heart lift just a little. The sight made her more certain that if they could just stick together, hearts and heads, then all would be well. If they could pull each other on like they always did, then the weight of the news they'd just received, however massive, would mean nothing. They'd see it through. They'd see anything through.

Her new found confidence was short lived however. Clarke's brow creased when Lexa did not respond to her prompt and then Lexa's smile faltered and faded back into a frown of concentration. Lexa dropped her eyes to the map of Europa, shoulders noticeably hunched. She glared at the map like solutions might suddenly leap off the page.

"We can't hide this from the Ambassadors," Clarke announced into the quiet, speaking aloud the first thought that popped into her head. It was something to fill the silence and start the dialogue Lexa was clearly unwilling to start herself. Clarke grappled for something to back her statement up with.

"Of course," Lexa agreed quietly, "They have a right to know. And it would be improbable that I could keep such an extended absence a secret. We'll call a meeting when we're ready." Lexa looked up from the map and met Clarke's eyes. There was a lightness in her green ones, a fire ablaze in the forest. Clarke could tell that their agreement on the first point had set Lexa at ease. Lexa's face was much less troubled.

"And they need to have time to prepare their clans. Just in case," Clarke continued her train of thought.

Lexa raised an eyebrow, "In case of what?" she asked and the confusion in her voice took Clarke aback. Surely Lexa was having the same thoughts?

"In case Europa means to attack," she said, "In case their invitation is just a way to measure us up."

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and choked back a groan when her words made Lexa square up to her full height. Lexa's shoulders went rigid and her hands clasped behind her back. The facade of the Commander fell heavily into place and the atmosphere in the room shifted accordingly. Their agreement had been brief it seemed.

"I doubt that Luna would have come all this way and put her life in danger to invite us to a war, Clarke."

If Clarke wasn't already certain of Lexa's negative response to what she'd said, the way her name escaped Lexa's lips in a terse click would have confirmed it. Moments into their discussion and she'd already touched a nerve.

"I don't think that either. But we know nothing about the people who sent her back. And what if Luna's just a pawn to lure us in? We can't go without some sort of protection," Clarke stressed.

Lexa's response was instant, an icy and dangerous whisper, "You insult me if you think going without protection is what I intended. But there's a distinction between taking precautions and appearing as though you expect a war. I don't think we are heading into a war. But if we go dressed for war then we run the chance of causing one."

Clarke scowled. Lexa certainly had a point, but Clarke was not about to back down on the issue. Not when the safety of the Kongeda, of Skaikru, of her people, could be in the balance. "And going dressed for peaceful talks will make us look like easy targets. The Kongeda covers a large, mostly temperate area. It's a tempting prize to anyone willing to try something."

Lexa's eyes pierced into Clarke's own as they measured each other up. Despite the familiarity, the depth of love, between them, Lexa's intensity made Clarke bristle. Or perhaps more appropriately, the near tangible power the Commander wielded set the Ambassador on edge. It was always paramount that the couple remembered to leave their true selves at the door when they had duties to attend to. Most especially when those duties took a fraught turn.

"Lexa, going in weak could cause all sorts of problems and you know it. The Kongeda is strong. We shouldn't have to hide that out of fear of stepping on a few toes," Clarke argued. It earned her an unrestrained eye roll.

"That's a little rich coming from you," Lexa muttered. Clarke felt the words like daggers and glanced down at the floor, but she did not respond. Lexa wasn't wrong, even if admitting that hurt. "You were all for pushing my people into a more peaceful way of life when it suited you. But now that Skaikru are safe under my protection, you see no problem in forgetting that progress? In going in swords drawn and suspicions high, rather than taking a chance and believing that both sides truly just want to talk. There are lessons to be had from the meeting of our people, Clarke. Mistakes were made that I'd rather not repeat."

Clarke's response was out of her mouth before she could stop it, "Yes, I _am_ fine with moving the goalposts. You and I know better than most how that can happen when it comes to our duty to our people." At last Clarke managed to catch herself and she gasped in a breath. Clarke was quite stunned at how much speaking those words hurt herself, considering the conversation she and Lexa had shared earlier that day. In contrast to Clarke's gawping at her own behaviour, the Commander's stoic face never faltered. Not in the whole time Clarke was delivering her verbal low blow, nor in it's tense aftermath.

The air in the throne room turned to static with all the things spoken and unspoken between the pair. Clearly, the atmosphere was too stifling for Lexa. Clarke watched with a frown as the Commander turned on her heel and stalked up the stairway and out onto the balcony. If it was a means of communicating that she was done talking after what Clarke had said, Clarke did not heed it. She chased Lexa down immediately, arms swinging at her sides, hands balled into fists.

The cool outside air was a welcome change. The pair maintained their stony silence just a while longer as Clarke took up a position at Lexa's left on the balcony. They both stared out over the city. The sun was starting to set behind the treeline of the forest beyond.

"A decision made out of desperation to end a threat that had plagued my people for fifty years isn't quite comparable to being cautious about meeting new people, Clarke," Lexa finally muttered. Her eyes still surveyed the capital, avoiding Clarke's intent gaze.

Clarke caught the way Lexa drew her bottom lip into her mouth after she'd spoke. It was the only tell Clarke needed to see. She had indeed hurt Lexa. Clarke winced and dropped her eyes to the floor.

"But if you want to talk about the mountain," Lexa spoke again when Clarke did not answer, "consider why they were able to do what they did for so long without their own people trying to stop it. We were faceless enemies to them. It's easy to attack someone when you don't know them personally. If we go to Europa, protected but not threatening, then Europa will know us as people from the start."

Lexa had a solid point, one that Clarke agreed on. Still, Clarke could not see how they could go protected enough without looking a little ready for a fight. She could not see where they could draw the line between the two. She sighed. "You're not wrong about the mountain," she admitted, "But Europa is a complete unknown. We just can't take chances."

Clarke heard Lexa give a low, nearly inaudible growl. When she spoke again, the topic of the mountain had been dropped.

"I trust Luna," Lexa said simply. Resolutely. "If she swears that these people have no ill will towards us, I trust that."

Clarke had to suppress a smile at Lexa's earnestness. It wasn't the time. Besides, celebrating Lexa's belief in hope only to have to be the one to take it down a peg would be nothing short of bitter after the damage already done. Clarke gulped. She stepped closer to Lexa. Not as close as she'd stand in a more intimate setting, but close enough to convey that for now, she needed their masks to slip a little.

"I understand your desire to trust Luna, Lex, I do. She was your friend, your sister. And now that she's back in your life you see a chance to make an important reconnection," Clarke said as gently as she could. "But even so, it's been a long time since you last saw her and who knows how much the past years have changed her, have shifted her allegiances. We have to be cautious."

"My personal feelings towards the return of a friend have no place in this discussion, Clarke," came Lexa's terse, resolute reply.

It was all the confirmation Clarke needed that trusting or not trusting Luna was the real problem for Lexa. She continued against all caution, "They do if they are going to affect political decisions." The words made Clarke wince even as she spoke them. She knew who she was sounding like, knew that Lexa would probably make the same leap. Clarke waited for more of Lexa's ire.

Miraculously, Lexa's face softened instead and she turned away from the view of the city. "Clarke?" she prompted, soft and comforting now.

Clarke frowned, "Ok, neither of us are doing so well at keeping our emotions out of this one," she admitted with a shrug. "I know you're shook up about seeing Luna again after so long."

Lexa narrowed her eyes, surveying Clarke as if she were reading the map left back on the table in the throne room. "And you're more upset about this news disrupting our evening with your mother and Raven than you've realised."

Clarke's mouth fell open at Lexa's deduction and the full force of how irate she was hit her. Clarke had made the one comment about losing their evening, but was certain she'd meant it as a throwaway line. She was more focused on trying to find a solution to Luna's news as quickly as possible, on trying to get to the bottom of what was bothering Lexa. In the process, Clarke had fallen into the trap of neglecting her own emotions. Of pushing them to the side, writing them off, and now she stuttered as she tried to process the realisation. "I guess I am," Clarke managed to get out, and then compelled to explain herself further; "I haven't seen them in a year, haven't known where they were, or if they were safe-" she trailed off with a sheepish smile and a half-shrug.

Lexa's expression softened immediately at Clarke's admonishment. She offered her own sympathetic shrug. "We rarely get to choose when big changes occur, Clarke, we just have to adapt accordingly," Lexa said in that wise, all-knowing voice she had. "It is understandable that you are upset. We were both looking forward to this evening," she added more sympathetically.

The accuracy with which Lexa had read Clarke, better than Clarke had read herself, and the affection in Lexa's eyes, made Clarke's sheepish smile turn to a much wider one. Clarke sighed. She was reluctant to say anymore. She was worried about how tenuous the ground around each of them might be now that they'd both identified the root cause of their frustrations. But Clarke didn't need to say anything.

Lexa closed the distance between them and took Clarke's hands into her own, what was left of the Commander's facade slipping away in seconds. "We should leave this discussion here for tonight, all things considered," she urged. "I told Luna she would have to wait until tomorrow for an answer, I didn't say when. We'll have the day to come to a solution."

Clarke nodded her head in agreement, glad to be able to put an ellipses on the heated debate for now. The shock of the revelation had made them both weary. "If those are the Commander's orders," Clarke tried for humour, hoping to dispel any lingering tension between them. Their duties were done for the day. They did not take them back to their private rooms if they could help it. "We should probably have an early night, it's been quite a day."

"A wonderful idea, Clarke. But first, you are to go and visit your mother, at least for a little while. Your evening doesn't have to be totally ruined."

Clarke responded to Lexa's suggestion by pulling Lexa into a tight, grateful hug. Lexa was right, there was still a little time to see her mother, and Raven if she was around. Clarke could explain why she and Lexa hadn't materialised for dinner. Clarke squeezed Lexa even tighter when she considered that Lexa was all but giving her the ok to go and talk to her mother about the testing discussion they'd just had. Lexa had to know that she would.

Clarke smiled into Lexa's neck when she felt Lexa tighten her own arms around Clarke's middle. Even with the looming prospect of having to return to their duties and their differences come the morning, having Lexa's arms wrapped protectively around her made Clarke's evening feel slightly rescued already.

* * *

Indra waited for the guard that had accompanied them to open the door to the bedroom. She stepped inside, Luna following behind her. It was one of the guest rooms, situated between the Embassy floors and Commander Lexa's private quarters. Comfortable but not lavishly decorated. Indra had briefly considered leading Luna to Clarke's old room but she had thought better of it. Though she was more than happy to see Luna alive and well, her old second had been gone for such a long time. Indra couldn't be sure exactly who the woman following her into the room was. To put Luna on the same floor as her Commander slept was a risk Indra was not willing to take.

"For a moment I thought you might be taking me to my old bunk," Luna let out into the silent bedroom.

Indra came to a stop in the middle of the space. She turned to Luna, trying to mask the surprise she still felt at seeing her so grown-up. "Perhaps I would have. But that room is no longer used, not since the attempted coup," Indra responded. When Luna creased her brow in response, Indra remembered how out of the loop Luna claimed to be. Indra sighed and straightened up. "You've missed a lot, Luna. I know the Commander wishes me to fill you in, but the tale is long."

Luna cocked her head and moved in silence towards the seating area, plopping herself down carelessly in a chair. She gestured to the couch. "Well, I'm not getting an answer from Lexa until tomorrow. We have all night," Luna said.

Indra considered the offer a moment. She was wary that spending too much time with this new matured Luna might somehow tarnish her memories of how they'd been years ago. Close. A near unstoppable force. She relented and sat down on the couch in the absolute centre of one of the cushions, shoulders rigid. Indra stared across to Luna.

"You never used to be this quiet," Luna observed, "Why don't you start from when I went to sea. That was five years ago now."

"Yes," Indra said and she thought back to that time. "You'd just agreed to Floukru joining the Kongeda. The first clan to ally with us. And then all mention of you disappeared from your people's' lips."

Indra recalled the birth of Floukru. The clan formed out of a group of people that had allied themselves to the runaway nightblood. They'd been convinced that Luna was a sign of change away from their ruthless way of life. The new clan had secured harsh territory, sandwiched by the coast between Trikru and Delfikru. Reportedly they lived on the wrecked ships there. Luna had steered the new clan from the shadows. She'd negotiated with Polis via her second mate, the man who became the Floukru Ambassador once they officially joined the Coalition. Still, it had been no secret that it was Luna in charge of the peaceful clan, even if her exact whereabouts was never discovered, mostly out of a lack of effort on Trikru's part. Commander Lexa never did send scouts looking for Luna, so Luna's need to go sailing off puzzled Indra greatly. She made a note to slip it into their conversation if she had the chance to.

"I didn't want too many people finding out what I was doing. The panic caused by my use of an old-world ship would have been enough to cause too much noise," Luna explained vaguely.

Indra nodded that she understood. "After you disappeared, Commander Lexa continued to secure alliances with the other clans, convincing them that it was in their best interest to join the Kongeda. It was bloody at times, but certainly not as terrible as it might have been under anyone else. Commander Lexa was uniting, not conquering. She avoided full scale wars by any means, worked with words and trade agreements. The odd skirmish, or single-combat where necessary. Eventually all the clans except for Azgeda had agreed to join the Coalition under Lexa's command."

"I can't imagine Trikru and Azgeda working together, not with the history between them," Luna cut in. "When I returned I was expecting to make my offer to Trikru and Floukru, maybe a few of the other clans, at the most. I never considered I'd be offering to open up communication between Europa and a complete coalition."

"Complete, but only just finding its foundations," Indra admitted. "You bring dramatic news at an interesting time, Luna."

Indra caught the way that Luna's face briefly fell into a frown, before it relaxed again. Luna tried to mask the slip with a smile, "So, how did Lexa get old Queen Nia to bend the knee?" she asked, bringing the topic squarely back to the Kongeda.

"I cannot be sure myself," Indra said, "Queen Nia was resistant to the last, panicked that the smaller clans she had terrorised were now united. She tried to break the Coalition with constant threats of invasion. When that wasn't working, she went straight for the head. Queen Nia had the Commander's niron captured and tortured. When this gave her no more information to use against Lexa, she simply tried to destroy the Commander. She sent Costia's head, bloodied and shaved, back to Polis. Had it delivered to Commander Lexa's bed."

"That's-" Luna's voice cracked and she scowled darkly, her eyes falling to the floor. "How was Lexa?" she managed, concern evident in her quieted voice.

"Bad, I believe. I wasn't here to see it, I was serving as Chief of TonDC at the time. But General Anya kept me informed whenever she passed through the village. They didn't think Lexa was going to move past it, she hid herself away for most of that year. Everyone was expecting the inevitable explosion of rage, waiting for her to call a war of the United clans against Azgeda in retaliation. But whenever the Ambassadors tried to push her towards war, she resisted. The small border skirmishes went on but never escalated. And then, one day, Lexa announced that she was taking an official visit to the Azgeda capital. When she returned, it was with a newly elected Azgeda Ambassador for the Kongeda. And with Nia's only son and heir as a political prisoner."

Indra felt her chest swell with pride as she recounted the tale. It remained extraordinary. Nobody knew exactly what had happened during Lexa's visit. As far as Indra could surmise in her wiseness, Nia had been panicked about the growing strength of the Kongeda. Her clan was slowly becoming the easiest target for the reapers of the Mountain to attack. She was sending her warriors to fight, or at the least to practice for war. The Coalition armies were largely at home and on hand to defend their people against the reaping. Soon enough, the people of Azgeda must have realised that joining the Kongeda was in their best interest. By acting to destroy it, their Queen was not putting her people's lives first as she claimed to be. Indra assumed that Nia had been deftly backed into a corner by Lexa, until she had no choice but to join the Kongeda or face an uprising of her own people.

"I'm not sure I could lose someone that close to me and not want some sort of justice," Luna admonished.

Indra narrowed her eyes. "I'm surprised by that," she said. The Luna she trained, the Luna that ran from the conclave and started Floukru had been vehemently against violence.

There was a moment of deafening silence, a moment of crackling tension in the air. The two women sized each other up, each trying to gauge how the other night have evolved over the years they'd been apart. Luna opened her mouth, looked like she was finally about to talk more about herself and Indra was excited to hear it. What Luna said instead disappointed her.

"But I can assume Queen Nia had more tricks hidden up her sleeve? You mentioned a coup," Luna spoke.

Indra was on edge now, certain that Luna was withholding her own story for a very specific purpose. Still, she set about finishing the tale to get Luna up to date. "It turns out Nia had been planning to conquer Trikru for a long time. The birth of the Kongeda was a boon. She had trained a nightblood in secret and that nightblood attempted to overthrow Lexa. She infiltrated the tower and slaughtered the novitiates. Thankfully, Lexa had already killed Nia by this time and the pretender floundered without that guidance. Lexa defeated the pretender in single combat and Lexa retook her throne at the head of the Kongeda. And now we have enjoyed a year of unmatched peace."

There was much more to the story Indra could tell. She hadn't touched on the arrival of Skaikru, nor the passing of the blood must not have blood law. She figured she could leave something for the Commander and Clarke to tell Luna about themselves. Besides, it was growing late.

"All the nightbloods slaughtered?" Luna repeated back, voice low.

"Yes. And now the rules of the conclave have been changed so that the next Commander need not be a nightblood. If you want to know why, you'll have to ask the Commander herself. She's told no one but Bandrona Clarke and I assume she intends to keep it that way."

"If she's hiding the truth, it's probably for a very good reason," Luna argued.

Indra suppressed a snarl. It was enough confirmation that Luna was aware that Indra suspected she was hiding things. And it was a warning to Indra not to press the issue. Indra tried to dodge around the warning.

"Luna, I have to ask," she began, "Why did you leave? The Commander clearly had no intention of hunting you down. My being alive and here talking you must make you realise that."

Luna jumped out of her chair, a clear sign of her defences raising. She turned away from Indra and clutched her upper arm with the opposite hand. "I couldn't be sure of that, Indra."

Indra stared at Luna from her own seat, eyes boring into her former second's back. "You seemed to be well protected by your clan," she said, "I'm just curious why you chose to leave them." Indra tried to keep any sign of judgement out of her voice.

She waited what seemed like an age for an answer. Eventually Luna lifted her head and glanced back over her shoulder, her mass of red curly hair hiding most of her profile even so. "I wasn't meant for that life and yet it tried to hunt me down. I kept running."

Indra sighed. It was as much of a confession as she was likely to get from Luna. She was frustrated that she'd found out nothing more about Europa, that Luna was being so mysterious about everything. She hoped that Commander Lexa at least would get more answers. Especially if she intended to accept Luna's offer to start communications with the world across the ocean. Indra rose to her feet.

"It's late. I should return to my duties," she excused herself and made her way to the door without waiting for a reply.

Indra's shoulders felt heavy with worry. She wanted to trust Luna. She wanted to be able to enjoy having her old second, the closest thing she'd ever had to her own child, back in her life. But everything about the rather one-sided conversation they'd shared had set Indra on edge. The woman who had arrived in Polis today was unmistakably Luna. But it was not the Luna that Indra remembered, not the Luna she had once poured her soul into training to be the best leader Luna could be.

* * *

Clarke rapped sharply on the door and waited. She hoped that her mother wasn't already asleep. That after missing the evening meal they'd planned, Clarke hadn't now managed to add further insult by disturbing her. She masked a sigh of relief when she heard footsteps approaching the door. It opened, and there was her mother looking quite alert despite the lateness of the hour.

"Clarke?" Abby exclaimed with a wide grin, "What a lovely surprise, I didn't think you'd be free at all. Come in." Abby all but tugged Clarke into the room and Clarke simply went along with her mother's enthusiasm.

"I'm glad you're not asleep, Mom," Clarke said. "I wanted to come and apologise in person for missing dinner with you and Raven. Lexa is sorry too," her apology came out in a quiet mumble. She gave a half smile when she caught her mother rolling her eyes,

"You don't have to be sorry. Bryan stopped by and told me you'd received a surprise guest carrying important news. Nothing can be done about these things," Abby reasoned.

"Still," Clarke muttered, for Abby's words hadn't exactly lifted her mood, "We were looking forward to catching up with you. I was really looking forward to hearing about what you've been doing in the past year, what you've seen."

"Well, we can start now can't we? It's a shame Raven has already gone to sleep. She took one look at the double bed she has to herself and came over exhausted." Abby laughed as she spoke, "I can't promise you the tale will be as colourful without her to help me tell it."

Now Clarke managed a proper smile as memories from her childhood filled her mind. "I don't know. I remember you being quite the bedtime storyteller," she said lightly. But then the memories were gone, replaced by worry that must have shown on her face. Abby's expression suddenly reflected Clarke's darkened mood back at her.

"There's something else you want to talk about instead, isn't there?" Abby guessed. She wrapped a comforting hand around Clarke's arm and pulled her daughter to the sofa.

Clarke sat down next to her mother and avoided Abby's curious gaze. Her own eyes fell onto the inked designs on her forearm. Clarke began to trace the shape of the knight chess piece just below her elbow. Her brow furrowed. "The news that our visitor brought was big," Clarke started quietly. "Really, potentially world-changing big."

Abby reached towards Clarke and took the hand that was tracing the patterns of ink on Clarke's arm. Clarke felt her lip wobble at the comforting contact, at being in the presence of her mother again after so long. But the events of the day had done their best to sour the reunion and Clarke could not find it within her to show any thanks for the support. She kept her eyes on her own arm. Her concentration shifted from the chess piece down to the Trikru symbol inked on the pulse point at her wrist.

"Are we in any danger?" Abby's question came out in a hoarse whisper, laced with concern.

Clarke almost laughed at the question. It was after all, the same conundrum that had brought her to her mother's room scowling rather than beaming. "Hopefully not. There's not much I can say about it," Clarke admitted, hating having to keep secrets from Abby. "Which is difficult when I just, you know, want to be able to talk to my mom about it."

Clarke let out a sniff when she felt Abby's grip on her hand tighten. She could feel her mother's eyes boring into her, trying to read her thoughts, no doubt searching for a way to make it all better. Clarke was struck with how similar she and her mother were sometimes. She knew that Abby would not let her out of the room again until Clarke had at least offered her something to work with. She opened her mouth, wanting to admit why she was in such a morose state, but at the same time totally reluctant to do so. Clarke jumped.

"Lexa and I have had quite the heated discussion about the approach we should take to the news," Clarke admitted. "Well, the Commander and I, I guess," she corrected herself.

Clarke heard Abby let out a sigh and the noise finally drew Clarke's full attention. She turned to her mother and saw nothing but love and support in her expression.

"So you've come to Mom to sound off about your girlfriend?" Abby said with a smirk.

"I know, and I hate that I have when there's so much stuff we need to talk about, that we should be talking about. You know, trivial things," Clarke's voice was hurried, a rushed sigh of words.

Abby shushed her. "Hey, putting the reason for the disagreement aside, you coming to me for relationship advice honestly seems like the most normal conversation we've had in a long time. So, it's a start."

Clarke tried to laugh, the noise was just a little pathetic.

"It must be frustrating, though. From what I've heard you've had a quiet year. Something coming along and disrupting all that is going to fray even the toughest nerves," Abby said sympathetically.

"It is. And to top it off, until we reach a decision, I can't even tell you exactly what it is we can't decide on," Clarke replied. She groaned and let her head flop back onto the couch cushion, her eyes drooping shut.

"That doesn't matter," Abby assured, "What matter is, do you think one of you is right, and the other just doesn't want to admit it?"

Clarke wrinkled her nose. Her first instinct was to point fingers and place herself firmly in the right. But she knew that wasn't entirely the case. "I guess, no. We are both right in a way."

"That's good, then," Abby said brightly, as if that was that.

Clarke furrowed her brow and looked at her mother expectantly. She didn't see how it was good, not after the evening she'd had, the things that had been said.

"Clarke, if you are both right then there must be a third option. A compromise that you just haven't found yet," Abby suggested with conviction, "And I'm sure you will find it."

Clarke nodded, taking her mother's advice in, trying to will it to settle her nerves. To some extent it did. Abby had to be right. There had to be some way that she and Lexa could meet in the middle. That was something they were normally quite good at doing. It wasn't the advice so much, but the faith Abby had placed in Clarke and Lexa's ability to find a solution that at last lifted Clarke's spirits a little. She pulled Abby into a grateful hug.

"I hope so," Clarke replied into her mother's shoulder, "Thank you for believing that we can. It means a lot."

Abby laughed as she pulled back from Clarke, but her hands remained on Clarke's arms. "I might have been gone a year Clarke, but it only took those brief moments in the sparring circle for me to know that my daughter has found a wonderful home here. It would take more than a lot to threaten that, I think."

Clarke grimaced, "Oh, don't tempt it," she said.

A silence fell over them as Clarke collected her thoughts, mulled over what her mother had said. She did feel like some of the weight of the day's events had been lifted from her shoulders. Her lips turned upwards just slightly.

"Do you have to go?" Abby finally spoke into the quiet.

Clarke gave a shrug, "No. I mean, I should try to sleep but I'm not that tired yet."

Abby seemed unusually satisfied by Clarke's admonishment that she wasn't in the mood to sleep. Clarke had expected to be, well, mothered. But then, it did mean the could salvage a little more time together. "Then you are welcome to stay here until you are tired enough, if you want."

"Are you sure? I don't want to keep you awake if you have to be up with the sun to get back to Arkadia tomorrow," Clarke said.

Abby hushed her daughter's concerns, "Raven and I decided we will stay a bit longer and let the Farm Council return ahead of us," she assured.

Clarke was happy to hear they were staying. Perhaps they would be able to find some time together somewhere. "Then I'd like to stay a while. Maybe now that we've got the motherly advice out of the way, you can tell me where on Earth you've been all year," Clarke suggested. She was still keen to hear about how Raven fixed her leg.

"Oh no, I'm the mother so I get to hear about my daughter's year first," Abby argued back. "Starting with this," she said, dropping her hand from Clarke's arm to point at the tattoo sleeve that covered it. Abby's pointing finger had homed in on the watch face inked on Clarke's bicep.

* * *

The late winter air had a keen bite to it and Monty shivered as he ate his breakfast alone in the outside eating area of Arkadia. He wished he'd thought to wear his jacket, but the sky was a clear blue and the low sun deceptively bright. Monty tried to make up for the chill by shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. He hoped that the wonderfully hot scrambled eggs would warm him from the inside out. Besides that, the eggs were delicious.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice made Monty startle and he dropped his fork to the metal plate with a clatter. Monty peered upwards into his mother's face. His mouth was full of eggs, so he nodded and waved a hand to the empty chair across the table.

Hannah gave a warm smile at being welcomed and took her seat, and then she thrust a piece of thick material across to Monty. He peered at the offered item curiously and realised it was his jacket. He swallowed down his mouthful of eggs and offered a grin,

"Thanks, Mom," Monty said. He took the jacket and immediately put it on, snuggling into its warmth, "It's colder than it looks."

"Dry though. Farming in the rain is no fun," Hannah replied, "How are the eggs?"

"Delicious!"

"Right? We get them fresh from a nearby Trikru chicken farm. And even better, once they've bred the next generation of laying hens, the farm is willing to trade with us. Our first Skaiomis."

Monty gave a short laugh. He had to admit that hearing his Mother speak favourably of the grounders, let alone speak some of their language, was a little strange. A good strange. Since returning to Arkadia two days ago, Monty hadn't really built up the courage to approach his mother. The year away from the settlement and from all that had happened had done him good. Given him time to process. Still, returning and seeing all the familiar faces again had been harder than Monty had imagined it would be. Seeing his mother again and starting to clear the air with her had been at the top of Monty's list upon his return. And, as is so often the case, it was also the thing he most dreaded. He was glad that Hannah had jumped though Monty knew that both of them were still intent on avoiding mentioning the strain between them. The feeling of avoidance only grew as a silence descended over the mother and son. Monty attempted to say something but Hannah beat him to it,

"So, are you going to tell me what you've been up to this past year?" Hannah asked.

It wasn't the subject that needed discussing, but Monty could not bring himself to point that out yet. He swallowed another mouthful of eggs, emptying his plate, and then slouched back in his chair. Monty let out a sigh. "You know it's all a bit of a blur," he said, "There was a lot of driving and a lot of dead ends and then eventually we got lucky. We started in the mansion Murphy knew about. Found all the information we could about the company that had built ALIE and the City of Light. And then we went road-tripping."

"It sounds like fun, I'm glad you were with friends," Hannah said.

Monty nodded. "It's been good, for all of us that went I think," he admitted. Then as his memories become more clear, Monty grinned and sat up straighter, suddenly excited by all he had seen. "There's so many old-world buildings out there, mostly in tact. The bombs only hit the major cities, radiation did the rest, but it left so much still standing. Factories and labs just waiting for the return of power. Of course the grounders won't go near the places, so we were lucky enough not to run into too much trouble." Monty paused to snigger, "When we did encounter grounders, we just made sure they knew that they were in the presence of Wanheda's Mom. They were happy enough to give us shelter for the night and offer directions after that. Well at least until we crossed right into northern Azgeda, and then we tried to stay away from people."

Hannah gave a shrug at that. "You might have been alright. All news we get back from Polis suggests the relationship between the two clans is friendlier than ever. Our Ambassador assures us that the Commander and King Roan are good friends, so we don't worry," she explained.

It hit Monty how out of the loop his year away had made him. He found himself glancing around the yard of the settlement. Although calling it a yard was a bit of a stretch now, for the outside space had been almost totally filled by outbuildings and storehouses. There was even a miniature grounder camp tucked in a corner which was where the Trikru healers living in Arkadia stayed.

"As for the places you saw," Hannah spoke up again, taking Monty's silence as an invitation to keep talking, "I'm sure we could bring them to life again in time. But we must move slowly. So much progress has been made this past year, living alongside the grounders. Assimilating. We wouldn't want to destroy that progress. Not again."

Monty narrowed his eyes at the admission his Mother had made between the lines of her words. It was as much of an invitation to bring up the so called elephant in the room as he was likely to get. Monty returned his full attention to his Mother.

"It's- it's good to hear you talk like that, Mom," he started tentatively, "I mean, I know you were in a rough place. Losing Dad and-"

"No," Hannah cut Monty off with a vigorous shake of the head, "No, that's not an excuse for what I did. It's never an excuse. If grief doesn't make us kinder to those who still live, well then there's work to be done."

The sorrow in his mother's eyes made Monty squirm. She had always been a strong woman. Infinitely kind and loving, but a strong personality nonetheless. For her to open up like this was something Monty was not used to.

"I am genuinely sorry for what I did, for siding with Pike. In fact, I'm not sure I will ever forgive myself, let alone expect outside forgiveness. And I'm not just remorseful because it nearly cost me our relationship. I was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. And all I can do now is admit that and try to do better, regardless of whether or not that's enough," Hannah admitted.

Monty tried for a supportive smile. He appreciated that his mother had not tried in anyway to justify her actions. It made him certain she was genuine. She was really apologising, not just excusing. Monty reached out and placed his hand on the tabletop and Hannah took it gratefully. Their hands clasped atop the metal table that divided them.

"I've done a lot of thinking over the past year. I think that's why I offered to go, more than anything. I needed the space," Monty gulped out. Speaking the words made all the progress he had indeed made seem somehow insignificant. "Damn, you know I keep expecting Jasper to just turn up at my side. With that stupid grin on his face, some new trouble thought up-" Monty paused to breathe back tears. "So thinking that I might have my Mom back, well, that really helps," he finished.

"You do," Hannah assured him, squeezing his hand tighter, "You do have me and you will always have me from now on."

Monty considered Hannah's promise. "Then let's just move on now," he suggested, voice shaky with emotion, "And say my forgiveness is a work in progress?" It was all he felt he could offer right now. Yet Monty was quietly confident that with some much needed time together, settling into their lives in Arkadia, he might indeed be able to forgive Hannah for the damage she had done to their relationship. Damage done at a time when Monty had most needed the support of his sole surviving family member. Of his mother.

It wasn't even the things she had done that made forgiveness so hard. More it was the knowledge that his own mother had the capacity to do such things, the capacity for such blind hatred, that was so hard to swallow. To have your perception of a parent so thoroughly shook up like that was a part of growing up perhaps, but that made it no more difficult to face. Until they'd come to the ground, Monty's naive idea of his parents as infallibly good people had never really been challenged. He imagined this must be how it would have felt to find out your parent was a guard back on the Ark. To learn that your parent was one of the people responsible for seeing friends floated for even the most minor crimes. It was a cruel right of passage.

"That sounds good to me," Hannah answered softly, accepting what Monty could offer with a thankful, bright smile. "Speaking of moving forward," she said after a recollective pause, "Have you given much thought to what you are going to do now you're back? The farm team could always use more hands, but I want you to make the decision. I want you to do what makes you happy."

Monty let out a whine at the reminder that he would have to take on some sort of responsible role now he was back in Arkadia. He really hadn't thought about it. "I honestly have no idea. There's a lot of things I like doing, that I can do," he said.

"Good. That's the answer I'd expect from a sixteen year old," Hannah said lightly. Then she frowned, "You were away for your birthday, we could have had a party."

Monty rolled his eyes, "There'll be another birthday this year," he said, "Funny how they work like that.

"I suppose," Hannah let up. She finally unclasped Monty's hand and sat back in her chair, looking across at him pensively. "You should come to the daily Council meeting at noon. They are open to anyone. Maybe getting caught up will help you make a decision," she suggested.

"Sounds good, I'll be there."

"And Monty?" Hannah said and she waited for Monty to meet her gaze before she continued, "Whatever you choose, just remember that you are still young, ok? Remember to let yourself be young, and to grow up in your own time. We are fortunate enough to be living in peace right now, and the chances that gives us shouldn't be wasted."

Monty grinned at his mother and nodded. "I'll do my best."

* * *

Lincoln waited with his arms folded across his chest. He watched the rest of the Arkadia Council members shuffle into the meeting room and take their places around the table. Lincoln had been the first to arrive at the daily meeting after Chancellor Sinclair himself. Punctual not out of eagerness, but simply because he'd had a quiet morning. There'd been no pressing matters preventing him from being on time. He idly tapped his foot and glanced about the dimly lit space. It was one of the only intact spaces right near the top of the wrecked arch that now served as the settlement's main building. The room was functionally kitted out with a table, a few illuminated boards for writing on, and little else.

The daily meetings were starting to feel more and more like formalities. Pointless necessities. The settlement ran smoothly enough these days. Though the daily meetings were open for anyone to attend, the rate at which non-Council members did turn up had slowly decreased over the year. Now, Lincoln was glad to see that Monty had decided to attend, for it felt like a novelty. Lincoln offered Monty and his mother a friendly nod of welcome.

Hannah was representing the farm team in the place of Bryan. Seeing her take a place around the table made Lincoln glance over to Miller as the guard entered the room. He knew that Miller was waiting for Bryan to return from Polis. In fact, the whole camp was waiting for those in the Trikru capital to come back. It was those people that might just help to bring a sense of progress back to Arkadia. There was nothing to complain about. The content that the settlement had found was a gift after its incredibly shaky founding. Yet there was a palpable eagerness, bordering on desperation, for more developments to be made. There was plenty of work to be done still.

"Good, now that everyone is here, let's get right underway," Chancellor Sinclair's calm voice broke into the quiet. Lincoln concentrated on the leader as Sinclair opened the meeting, "I want full status reports from you all, and then we see what our guest has to say. Is that agreed?"

A murmur of "Ayes" sounded in the room. Satisfied, Sinclair nodded his head for Miller to begin the reports.

"Perimeter is quiet," Miller began, utterly professional. He had taken to his new leadership role well and Lincoln was pleased to see his friend doing such good work for the settlement. He knew everyone felt much safer around the guards these days. Even though their jobs were quiet, Miller still managed to instill a sense of rigorous duty in the team. "Lookouts have reported no unusual sightings. Settlement is behaving itself, prison is empty. Harper did well on her first day as Lt. yesterday, I'm glad to have her back. All in all, situation normal."

"Damn it still feels good to say that without having to add the other part," Octavia piped up. It earned her a laugh from the room. Lincoln grinned widely. Octavia had taught him the word snafu and what it stood for, and it had certainly been a useful phrase to describe Skaikru's first months on the ground. Thankfully, that had changed.

"Then we can assume your report will be equally as brief?" Sinclair ventured with a smile.

Octavia gave a shrug, "That's right. Lincoln hasn't reported any issues with our resident Trikru healers. The trade between clans is going from strength to strength, with both our and the Trikru stall reporting no issues. Commissary is well stocked. But that's probably because people are trading for new goods. No hand-me-downs these days," Octavia listed off.

Lincoln listened to his partner proudly. Octavia was officially the liaison between Skaikru and the rest of the coalition. She oversaw any business in the settlement that involved more than just the Sky people themselves. Still, the role was getting smaller and smaller. More people were picking up Trigedasleng and finding it easier to conduct negotiations without aid. Lincoln knew that Octavia was growing a little restless. Though she was utterly professional in the meetings, she had admitted as much in private moments. Lincoln understood. Octavia was still evolving, still growing and trying to find her niche. That was one of the reasons why the couple had taken things quite slowly over the past year.

Lincoln knew that Octavia needed space sometimes, just like he did. They both had a loner streak that would always be a part of them. Finding the balance between letting each other have their own time, but also spending enough time together away from their duties, had been a slow process of trial and error. Lincoln could only be grateful that they had made it so far. Arkadia had, against all expectations, become a happy home for them. Lincoln felt more welcomed here, more useful and needed, than he perhaps had anytime in his life before. And he knew that for now, Octavia's dream of becoming a warrior had been sidelined. They'd both found themselves quickly adjusting to a more peaceful way of life.

"And Lincoln, how is the med team?" Sinclair prompted Lincoln. The meeting was moving quickly with so little to report on.

"We're fine. No major incidents. A few people are still recovering from Winter colds. As Octavia said, the Trikru healers are doing fine. Unless anything major happens that requires medical attention, we're on standby. Until Dr. Griffin returns and starts sharing her knowledge, there isn't much to be done."

Lincoln finished his report with a shrug. He felt himself smiling at mentioning the healers that dwelled in a small camp inside Arkadia's walls. It was also where Lincoln and Octavia had taken to living. They'd grown just as unsettled by the cold metal interiors of the main building as the Trikru had been. There was a sense of having the best of both worlds. No longer were Lincoln's loyalties split, the two halves of him had met in the middle and settled there. He was Trikru. He was Skaikru too.

"We'll get to our missing members soon," Sinclair assured. Lincoln was after all, only on the council until Abby got back. "Just the farm team report to go."

"Everything is running smoothly. We're still harvesting the winter vegetables and preparation for spring planting is well underway. There have been no issues between our people and the grounders. We're all waiting for the council to return with instructions from Polis," Hannah said.

Sinclair gave a nod, "Alright, good to hear all is well. I trust you to keep things that way, and to notify me of any changes," he said.

Lincoln was glad that the old engineering chief had been voted in as Chancellor. Sinclair was a vastly intelligent man, and a kind one. He was a very relaxed leader, trusting his council members to be competent at their own roles. Something that Lincoln knew never went unappreciated. It was important to know that your leader had faith in their people.

"Now, I know that there's been a bit of a plateau in our forward progress recently," Sinclair stated, reading the room perfectly. "And yes, we are waiting for our absent friends to get back so that they can bring their much needed expertise onto the table. Abby will be taking charge of med team once she's back. Raven will join the council as the new Engineering Chief, and no doubt start plotting to put my legacy to shame. But I ask you all to remember to appreciate and feel proud of how far we've come this past year. A plateau is not a step backwards. The trap of dullness should not outweigh our thankfulness that life is quiet enough for us to have developed a routine."

Nods and noises of agreement passed through the room as each council member took their Chancellor's guidance on board.

"And we do have Monty back," Sinclair gestured over to Monty with a warm smile, "What can we do for you?"

Monty smiled, "I guess I'm here to get an idea of where Arkadia's at right now. And figure out where I might fit into the settlement."

"Monty needs a job," Octavia offered. "I guess moonshine expert isn't really that helpful a suggestion?"

Lincoln laughed at the way Monty grimaced. Monty motioned his head towards his mother, silently telling Octavia to mind what she was saying in front of Hannah.

"That's just one of Monty's many talents," Hannah responded. She seemed quite unfazed by the reminder of her son's misadventures. "I think any of the teams would be glad to have him."

"I did not sign up for this," Monty whined out. He cringed comically at his mother's praise, "But yeah, I've sort of become a jack of all trades,"

"Master of none?" Octavia suggested with a grin,

"Master of moonshine," Monty corrected, "And other concoctions too. Maybe I should put my criminal past to good use and join med team. I mean, I've got nothing on Dr Griffin, but my pharmaceutical knowledge will be useful to pass on."

Lincoln gave a nod, "We'd be glad to have you, Monty. I'm sure if we combine our techniques with your knowledge, we could help a lot of people."

"Good, that's decided then. Monty, you are free to join med team for now. But by all means, if it doesn't sit right, please come back to the Council and we can discuss other options. I see no reason why you couldn't rotate duties until you find your place here," Sinclair said. "And that brings the daily meeting to a close unless there's anything else?"

"Can Monty be put back in charge of making the moonshine? Because the stuff we've been putting up with this year is awful," Octavia piped up.

"Technically, med team do also use it as disinfectant. So I think it now counts as one of Monty's responsibilities to ensure a good quality product," Lincoln backed Octavia up. He offered her a cheeky wink from across the table.

"Fine," Sinclair sighed, "But if Raion gets offended, I blame you lot."

The meeting ended with another laugh from the room. Lincoln was about to leave, when Octavia caught him by the arm and tugged him to a stop. Lincoln beamed down at her and waited for her to speak.

"So, are you busy right now?" Octavia asked, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

"Oh I don't know. I could count the number of bandages we have again," Lincoln teased but then he shook his head. "No, I'm free, meizin, what do you have planned?"

"Helios is due a run out. To your cave, maybe?" Octavia suggested and she placed her palms flat against Lincoln's chest as she spoke.

Lincoln was about to respond to Octavia's proposal by kissing her, but as his head bowed towards hers, a piercing whistle sounded in the room. Lincoln sighed and turned towards Miller.

"No propositions at the Council meeting," Miller laughed out.

"The meetings over," Octavia pointed out sharply, "Jog on, Miller."

Lincoln snorted as their friend took Octavia's advice too literally. Miller clowned about, jogging out of the room, knees raising up so high they touched the man's chest. Feeling equally playful, Lincoln gave Octavia another wink, and then he quickly swept her up off her feet and into his arms. Octavia laughed and swatted his chest as Lincoln carried her out of the meeting room. He had every intention of heading straight for the stables.

"Wherever you're taking me, gorgeous," Octavia sang out, "It better not be as short as that meeting was."

Lincoln smirked down at the woman in his arms.

* * *

The door to Raven's bedroom swung open without a knock or any other sign that someone was about to enter the room. Abby had to suppress a laugh when it was her daughter that swept into the room uninvited. It was a habit that Clarke had definitely inherited from her mother.

"Hey, you're both here, that's great," Clarke started, not bothering to wait for a hello either.

"Yes, Clarke. Do come in," Raven bit back from where she was lounging on the couch. Abby watched with joy that still hadn't worn off as Raven shifted quickly. Raven picked herself up off the low seat without a single trace of difficulty or pain. "Are you free for a while? I can maybe look past the rudeness if you're finally free," Raven stated.

Abby turned from Raven to look at Clarke in expectation. She too was hopeful that Clarke might have at least a little time to spare them today. Still, Abby wasn't surprised or resentful when Clarke's nose wrinkled and her daughter shook her head. Abby offered a supportive look, but she heard Raven's annoyed sigh and Clarke must have too.

"Look I know this sucks. You came here to surprise me and I haven't found the time to appreciate that. But Lexa and I don't want the other big surprise to disrupt our routine too much. Not until announcements are made at least. We've spent the whole morning attending to our daily duties so that we're free from now to think of an answer to give to Luna," Clarke explained in a rush. Clearly she was eager to get going. After their conversation last night, Abby could barely blame Clarke's enthusiasm to go and solve the problems she and Lexa faced. Raven however, was not privy to what had happened between the couple and it showed.

"Don't let your guests keep you waiting, then," Raven shot. The venom in her voice was there to mask the hurt, Abby knew.

Abby watched Clarke's expression closely. She saw the way her daughter's nostrils flared and Abby started preparing for the worst. Abby was pleasantly surprised when instead, Clarke stepped closer to Raven and held a flat palm in the air in surrender.

"I know. I hate doing this to you. It isn't fair. But we have to do something with the news we got yesterday soon or it could go bad for everyone. Can you at least understand that? Even if you need to stay angry at me?" Clarke said quietly.

There was a beat where Raven's expression remained stony. Then at last, Abby was relieved to see it soften. Raven pulled Clarke into a brief hug, before letting Clarke go with a playful shove on the shoulders.

"Alright. But you owe us big time, Griffin junior. Now go save the world, or whatever the hell you're up to," Raven let up. "You're probably not saving the world or you'd have already grovelled for my help," she added.

Clarke sniggered, "Alright, I owe you," she agreed. Then she glanced over at Abby and gave an apologetic smile. Abby shook her head, communicating that there was no need for Clarke to be sorry. The gesture turned Clarke's apologetic expression into a grateful one. "Listen, it blows that I can't play tour guide for you both, but it's a pretty great day and the city is open to you. Maybe you could go exploring, make the most out of your time here even if it wasn't what you originally planned?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Clarke," Abby said.

Clarke gave a nod like that was that, like she hated that it was all she could offer her mother and friend. "I really need to get going," she murmured.

"Of course, let me see you out," Abby offered.

Abby moved towards Clarke and the pair of them began to walk towards the door. Clarke turned and offered a quick wave to Raven as she opened the door. Abby didn't stop there and she ushered her just outside the bedroom, away from Raven's ears for a moment.

"Is everything alright with you and Lexa? I worried all night, you know," Abby whispered.

"Fine," Clarke assured, "We're good at keeping our personal time separate from our duties, it was totally fine when I got to our room. It's the resumption of the discussion I'm dreading."

Abby narrowed her eyes. She wanted to offer Clarke some sage advice about just how difficult, even detrimental it can be to try to separate the two halves of one's life so wholly. Both she and Jake had been on the Council. Abby'd had plenty of experience in juggling a personal relationship with a political peer. Still, she kept her wisdom back for the time being. It wasn't the time or place to go disheartening Clarke further. Abby feared that bringing up Jake when Clarke was already so clearly stressed out would not be the best idea. Besides that, sometimes it was best for people to learn things in their own time. She wanted above all, to protect her daughter's feelings.

"You'll figure it out, Clarke," Abby opted for simple reassurance instead. "You and Lexa will figure something out."

The grin that Clarke gave Abby settled her motherly nerves for the time being.

"Once we have, and we are waiting for whatever we come up with to happen, I can finally spend some time with you and Raven," Clarke mused. She was trying her best to sound like she believed herself.

Abby shrugged, "Just do what you need to do for now Clarke. You know where we are if you need an ear and a shoulder."

With that, Clarke gave her mother a nod and walked away to resume her momentous duties. Abby watched her daughter go until Clarke had rounded a corner and was out of sight. The weight on Clarke's shoulders was almost evident in her purposeful stride. It made Abby frown. She let out a breath and re-entered Raven's bedroom, hoping that Raven's calmness had lasted. When she moved into the space and looked Raven in the eye however, she saw that Raven's fiery temper had flared again.

"Raven?" Abby prompted delicately,

"I know. She has to go be Ambassador, or Wanheda, or whatever it is they call her these days," Raven said through gritted teeth. "But that doesn't stop it from hurting, right?"

Abby couldn't respond to that. She moved past Raven and sat herself down on the couch, hoping that the added comfort would set her more at ease. Make her more able to diffuse Raven's not unwarranted scowling.

"No, it doesn't. But this is Clarke's life now. These are her duties. She's out there keeping Arkaida safe and we have to let her do that. Even if it means sacrificing our time with her. Her job must be difficult enough without us piling guilt on her shoulders," Abby said as gently as she could. She could see both points of view and didn't want to invalidate either sides feelings. Still she felt that Raven needed the reminder that Clarke wasn't neglecting them out of personal choice.

Raven gave a tut and rolled her eyes, but then she immediately seemed to soften. Soon, she had plopped down next to Abby on the sofa, her prosthetic leg resting casually on the low drinks table in front of the couch. "I guess," Raven said, and then, "You've gotten a hell of a lot better at that, by the way."

Abby turned to Raven in confusion, "At what?"

"You know, at dealing with Clarke being who she is. In a big, scary leadership position," Raven explained further.

Abby hummed in understanding. "It took time," she said, "A lot of time. I don't think anyone who isn't a mother can really understand how hard it is to see your daughter, your little girl, making the decisions Clarke has had to make for us. When all your instincts are screaming at you that this is wrong, this isn't how it's supposed to be. You should be protecting her. You should be shielding her from the horrors of the world." Abby paused, quite taken aback with herself for sharing so much with Raven when she was usually such a deeply private person. "But in the end, I had to accept that Clarke is just better at leading than I am. She might have my impulsive streak, but she is more of a diplomat. I see so much of Jake in her."

Raven considered Abby a moment. If she was uncomfortable about Abby's sharing, she did well not to show it. "Come on, Doc, you're just awesome if different ways," Raven finally said with conviction. She clearly thought that Abby was looking to be cheered up. Though Abby wasn't necessarily after any sort of comfort, the seriousness of Raven's tone was something of a nice surprise. Abby felt her spirits lift despite herself. "I mean you did manage to fix my new leg onto my body in a lab that hadn't been used since before a nuclear apocalypse. Pretty badass," Raven said, motioning proudly to her prosthetic.

"I appreciate your confidence in me Raven," Abby said.

Raven laughed. "I appreciate your crazy medical skills," she shot back. Then she quieted again and met Abby's eyes. "Look, for what's it's worth, I think you're pretty awesome as you are. And if I could pick myself a Mom? Well, you'd be my first choice."

Abby felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. Raven's words were sweet, perhaps too sweet coming from the mechanic, but Abby accepted them with a graceful smile. "Thank you, Raven. Hearing that is worth a lot," Abby responded quietly. She sat a little easier on the sofa, slouching into the cushions. Abby found herself chuckling.

"What?" Raven prompted.

Abby shrugged, "I'm just wondering how I've managed to keep gaining surrogate daughters. Ones that manage to be just as stressful at times as my real one," Abby mused.

"Oh come on," Raven bit back. "There's no way I cause half as many wrinkles as your not-daughter-in-law," Raven claimed. Then her eyes grew wide, "Not that you have wrinkles," she added in a rush.

Abby was too amused to be offended and she shook her head at the young woman, "A fair point," she conceded. Finding out that your daughter had fallen for, essentially, the ruler of the world did really take the cake.

"How are you doing with that, anyway?" Raven asked, perceptive of Abby's thoughts.

Abby considered a moment, her hand reaching down to dust non-existent dirt off her jeans as she thought. "I'm good," she answered at last, voice certain, "Clarke is happy. Very happy. And the two of them clearly have something special between them. You don't need to spend more than a few moments with them together to notice that. It might seem strange to us, Lexa being who she is. But I trust my daughter's judgement, I trust that Clarke is as safe and happy as she needs to be. And as loved as she deserves. I don't doubt that for a second."

Even despite her conversation with Clarke last night, and the words they'd just had outside Raven's room, Abby was being completely honest. She was more than thrilled that her daughter had built a life in Polis with Lexa. Abby was just as confident as she had claimed to be that the pair could weather much more violent storms than the one they'd hit yesterday. All in all, Abby knew that there was little more a mother could want for her daughter than the happy and loving home Clarke had found. Even despite it's somewhat eccentric nature.

"Yeah, they're fools. Nothing more to it," Raven agreed.

"It'll come to you too," Abby argued, mock wisdom in her voice.

Raven let out something like a laugh, "I guess. When I'm ready."

Abby narrowed her eyes and offered Raven a sage nod, like she understood exactly what Raven was saying in so few words. She knew she wasn't likely to get any more out of the young woman.

Abby fidgeted on the couch. Thinking about the city had made Abby feel restless all of a sudden. She sprung off of the seat, overtaken with the need to just go somewhere. To start making more of her time in Polis, even without Clarke's company.

"Where are you off in a hurry?" Raven asked.

"I think I'm going to take Clarke's advice and explore Polis a little. I didn't really take it in the last time I was here. Are you coming?" Abby said.

Raven seemed to consider for a moment before cocking her head negatively. "Nah, I think I'm going to go work on the rover some more," she said. She gestured in the air with her thumb and forefinger, "I am this close to getting the adjustments right so I can drive it. And then I'll be able to get us back to Arkadia. Unless you plan on staying here until Clarke is finally free."

Abby was disappointed that Raven didn't want to join her in her exploration, but she got it. Raven was still hurt that their surprise visit had been, by all means, ruined. Abby knew that Raven was using the rover as an excuse. It was a much needed distraction until Raven was ready to sort through her feelings and calm herself down. Abby knew Raven almost as well as she knew Clarke by now. Abby almost let out a bark of laughter, for she found herself wondering if she'd ever get to know Lexa in the same, complete, way.

"Ok, you go do that," Abby conceded without further argument. "You'll probably find me in the market if you change your mind. If you decide you need company after all," she said, echoing in a way the same offer she'd not long since made to Clarke. Abby knew that she wasn't much of a leader, but she quite rated her abilities as a confidant.

* * *

Clarke offered a nod of thanks to the guard that opened the door for her as she stepped into the large dining room. She peered critically about the space, confused about why Lexa had decided to meet here. It wasn't one of their private rooms. The dining area was normally reserved for entertaining large groups of important guests. Or for the odd occasions when all the Ambassadors would sit and eat a meal together with their Commander.

Arms swinging deliberately at her sides, Clarke made a beeline for the long wooden table in the centre of the room. Lexa was already sat at the head of the table. When the pair of them made eye contact for the first time since Clarke had entered, neither could hold back a warm smile at the sight of the other. Clarke kept silent as she approached, nearing the chair closest to Lexa's own. She was quite moved when Lexa sprung gracefully out of her own seat and proceeded moved to pull Clarke's from under the table.

"Chof," Clarke mumbled with a wry smirk as she took the offered seat.

Lexa helped her to maneuver the chair closer to the table and then sat back down herself. The couple considered each other a few moments. The subtle candlelight that barely illuminated the long room, played beautifully on the definition of Lexa's features. Clarke let out a sigh. She was suddenly even more disheartened that she and Lexa had to resume their debate from last night.

"Why here?" Clarke broke the silence with her simple question. She was sure Lexa had a good reason for the unexpected location of their meeting.

Lexa sat rigidly in her chair. "I thought it might be a little less daunting than the throne room. More friendly," she offered in a low voice that would betray little if it wasn't Clarke she was speaking to. Clarke could tell that Lexa was equally as reluctant to start as she felt. She was equally as desperate to claw at some middle ground as soon as possible to take the strain off of them both.

"I see," Clarke said back simply. She felt herself frowning despite herself and it did not go unnoticed.

"Your check-in with your Mother and Raven did not go as well as you'd hoped," Lexa immediately stated. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Clarke's shoulder. Her thumb brushed against the fabric of Clarke's shirt. It was as if in that second of gentle contact, Lexa believed that she could soothe all of Clarke's worries away. The moment soon passed however, and Lexa quickly retracted her hand, just as aware as Clarke was that now wasn't the time to be familiar. Not in that way, at least. Still, Lexa deserved an answer for her perceptiveness.

"Not exactly. My Mom understands, but Raven's quite hurt. I don't blame her, they made the effort to come here and surprise me. But surely she can understand that I want to spend time with her. I just can't," Clarke tried and failed to keep a whiny tone out of her voice. If she was honest with herself, she felt quite exhausted, both emotionally and physically. She and Lexa had been fine last night when Clarke had made it back to their room, more than fine actually. But it hadn't helped Clarke to get any decent amount of sleep. In fact, she'd spent most of the night sat up in bed whilst Lexa slept next to her. Clarke had used the few candles that they kept burning throughout the night to light her sketchpad. She'd started to draf out some designs for Raven's prosthetic. Designs she really had hoped she'd find the chance to share with Raven today. No such luck.

"I'm sure Raven does understand-" Lexa responded after some consideration of Clarke's words. Though the way Lexa trailed off made Clarke think she had more to say but had stopped herself short of saying it.

"But seeing her disappointment doesn't make this any easier," Clarke finished.

Lexa did not respond and Clarke was grateful. Lexa seemed to understand exactly how Clarke was feeling. Yes, Raven had hurt her. But it wasn't anyone's place to pass judgement when Clarke herself knew that Raven's response was valid. Lexa respected that.

Clarke put an elbow on the table and leaned her chin against her hand. "I did suggest that they go explore the city, make the most of the time here," she said in her own defence. "Whether or not they do-" Clarke trailed off. She waved her free hand in the air in dismissal, as if she was trying to literally waft the distraction away. "Anyway, let's just put that to the side for now, it isn't why we are here."

"If you are sure, we should begin," Lexa agreed but then she offered a half-smile, "But perhaps we can wait just a few more moments?" she requested.

Clarke became aware then that someone else had entered the dining room. She lifted her chin off of her hand and peered around at the sound of footsteps. A palace servant was making his way towards the table, carefully holding a metal tray laden with food in his hands. The servant skillfully set the assortment of snacks on the table and deposited a small plate at both Lexa and Clarke's place. His task complete, the man straightened up and bowed his head to the Commander.

Lexa inclined her head back in thanks and then silently waved the man away. Clarke waited until the servant had left the room before she broke out into a wide grin and dared to laugh a little.

"What is this?" Clarke asked.

Lexa glanced at her and then her green eyes dropped to assess the food on the table. There was a small assortment of cakes from the market; as well as gorgeous, fresh looking berries of every kind that grew in Trikru territory. A few types of nuts completed the snack pile, but it was the cakes that Lexa immediately reached out for.

Clarke watched, eyebrow raising in amusement, as Lexa picked out the lone honey cake in the pile. They were Lexa's favourite. Clarke was somewhat surprised then, when Lexa reached out and delicately placed the food on Clarke's plate instead of her own.

"Consider it a peace offering. Before time," Lexa answered Clarke at last.

Clarke sniggered. "We don't need a peace offering, Lex. We need a solution," she said and then she winced because it came out a little harsher than she intended. Lexa made no sign of being hurt and Clarke felt relieved. If she had of offended Lexa, she'd have been able to tell no matter how hard Lexa tried to mask it. The subtlest shift of her jaw, or a change in her breathing pattern would have been enough for Clarke to know. Instead, Lexa remained still, her face neutral and bordering on serene. It made Clarke narrow her eyes in suspicion.

The cake Lexa had set on her plate winked up at Clarke from the table and Clarke stayed quiet just a little longer. She gingerly picked up the piece of cake with both hands and then tore it into two smaller, almost even pieces. She placed the slightly larger piece on Lexa's plate. The metaphor within the act did not go unnoticed, because though Lexa nodded a thank you, she also rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"So," Clarke said, "Have you had any thoughts since yesterday?"

"Yes," Lexa stated confidently, the Commander's persona falling into place. It made watching Lexa demolish her piece of the honey cake somewhat jarring. When she had finished, with not a single crumb left, Lexa set her shoulders and stared into Clarke's eyes. "If it is possible," she said, "We are going to take an army to Europa."

Clarke's eyes widened in shock. Of all the things Lexa might have said, Clarke had not been expecting that. She worked her mouth open but nothing came out. Her brain was grasping for the right words among the multitudinous questions that had sprang into her mind at Lexa's u-turn. Clarke merely snapped her mouth closed again to save face. She waited, hoping that Lexa would take the hint and explain herself. And Lexa did.

* * *

Abby wandered aimlessly through the tight, winding pathways in between the stalls that made up Polis's main area of commerce. The market was vast. It sprang up suddenly as you approached the centre of the capital, where residential buildings gave way to the wooden stalls. Occasionally, Abby passed a built-up store or smithy. Abby had tried to take in as much of the city as possible. When she'd left the tower, she'd chosen to face away from the low February sun so that it warmed her back. Then she had walked all the way through the city to it's border. To the edges where the treeline of a dense forest provided natural protection for the city's outskirts.

The foray into the residential area of the capital had been eye-opening. Homes made of timber and scrap metal were packed tightly together. There was no real semblance of order to where they'd been erected. Abby had tied to imagine the founding of the capital. The first months where life had started to bloom outwards from the safety of the interior of the old city. She'd imagined families staking their claims on a patch of land. It had only been a few generations ago and maybe the same bloodlines still resided in those homes.

Polis was surely nothing compared to the decimated city it had been built on, but to Abby's eyes, it was a marvel. The city teemed with life, there were certainly more people in Polis than had called the Ark home. And those lives had been playing out all around Abby as she had retraced her steps in a more random fashion. No matter where she headed, the tower in the centre of the city dominated the skyline. The flame burned brightly at the top like a welcoming beacon and there had been no need to worry about losing her way.

Abby had soaked up the sights and signs of life. Everything had fascinated her. The noises of rushed Trigedasleng emanating from homes. The open cooking fires that were dotted around in rare clearings, and seemed to be shared by several homes, along with the food that was cooked on them. Even the sight of clothes hanging out to dry on lines fastened between the roofs had been a marvelous sight. The clothes were so much more varied and skillfully tailored than Abby would have ever imagined.

At last, Abby had made it back into the market. Now, she dawdled around, enraptured by the charms of the city, and tried to take in every single stall she passed. Abby was sorry that she couldn't possibly see them all in one visit, but then she supposed she could visit the ones she missed later with Clarke.

Abby smiled at passersby as she walked and by and large, they offered a smile back. There was a wonderful atmosphere of content about the market. Abby was thrilled to see so many of the stalls positively bursting with wares, the rickety tables somehow managing to hold the weight of treasures stacked high. Abby knew that it was evidence of the year of peace the Kongeda had enjoyed. Traders had the time to go out scavenging for goods. They felt safe enough to travel to other territories and trade for items to bring back and sell on.

Abby made it into the last few rows of stalls, the ones closest to the foot of the tower. Most of them were food traders and Abby assumed that they were located furthest into the city for added protection. It was even more settling to see that the food stalls were equally well stocked. Though Abby did not feel hungry, she felt her stomach grumble when her eyes scanned a butcher's stall. She stared at piles of raw steaks and fat sausages. A wooden frame over the stall was covered in rope, and from each strand, poultry and hares hanged. An adjoining stall was trading ready cooked and cured meats. Abby inhaled deeply as she passed, the spices on the food heavy in the air.

There were still a few general wares stalls in the interior of the market. Abby found herself meandering towards a particularly haphazard display of rescued old-world oddments. Abby offered a nod to the stall keeper and then scanned over the wares, certain that she'd been drawn to this particular stall for a reason. A dull bronze glint of metal caught Abby's eye and she reached out and picked up a small candlestick, the type that one would use as a centrepiece on a table. Abby tested the weight of the thing in her hand and inspected the metal work. It was old and battered, tarnished badly, and yet it was still charming. Cute, even.

Abby could recall seeing such an item in many of the films she had watched on the Ark. She could picture any number of scenes of a couple enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner. Abby let out a sigh as she reminisced. She'd always wanted to recreate those scenes with Jake, they always looked so sweet. But the space station had kept strict regulations about open flames of course. Candles could not even be found on the Ark as a result. Abby figured that she could gift the item to Clarke and Lexa. They probably had hundreds of the things in the tower already, but Abby hoped that her daughter would understand the meaning behind the gift. Abby wished the best for the couple.

Decided on her purchase, Abby held the item up to the stall keeper to communicate her intentions. She reached into a pocket on her jacket and pulled out a small bottle of disinfectant and a bandage. She always kept some first aid supplies on her person, but there were plenty more back in the rover. Things scavenged during a year of travelling. Abby offered out the items to the keeper and he took them and assessed them with a critical eye. At last, the man nodded that it was an acceptable trade and Abby offered him a thankful smile before she turned and walked away from the stall.

Abby had barely walked a few strides when she jumped at the feeling of a hand wrapping around her arm. The arm tugged Abby along quite against her will. Abby's heart began to beat erratically from panic, but Abby focused herself and tried to identify who was holding onto her. Her eyes moved from the young, dimpled hand on her arm to the girl it belonged to. Abby let out a relieved laugh as she realised that it was the same little girl that had accosted Marcus and herself a year ago. Sure enough, the girl deposited Abby in front of the seafood stall. The same woman was in the middle of frying up some squid and Abby blinked away the feeling of deja vu.

"Hei," the woman said to Abby, glancing up briefly from her cooking.

Abby grimaced. Her time on the road meant that she hadn't really had the chance to pick up the language yet. "Hei," she offered back.

"Nou houmon?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand you," Abby admitted with an apologetic look.

"Weron ste yu houmon kamp raun?" the woman tried, and then she considered a moment and said, "Spouse?"

Abby felt her heart lurch painfully as she realised what the stall keeper was asking. She was wondering where Marcus was. Abby gave a shrug,

"He wasn't my spouse," she corrected, trying not to let her voice break, "Marcus is gone." Abby frowned and tried to remember something of the language, "Wan op?" she ventured.

The woman looked taken aback for a moment and then her face softened into a sorrowful look, "Ah, I ste moba. Reshwe Marcus," she said.

"Sha, reshwe Marcus," Abby said, feeling moved. The words made more sense to her now she understood the context.

With no more to say on the matter, the stall keeper dropped her eyes back to the squid that was frying on the grill. A wood fire crackled underneath the grate. The keeper shuffled the food about a bit and then snapped a piece of squid up in a pair of tongs. She offered it out to Abby, an expectant look on her face.

Abby smiled, and this time she gratefully accepted the offered food. The squid was hot as she took it from the tongs and she winced. As she waited for it to cool, Abby couldn't help to consider the situation. Abby wondered if her determination to enjoy the sights of Polis had subconsciously been her way of honouring Marcus's memory. When they'd explored the market together a year ago, Abby had barely been able to process her surroundings, much less enjoy them. She had been too worried about getting to see Clarke. Marcus had taken it all in his stride like he always did. A year later, and Abby felt sorry that she hadn't bucked up her ideas and enjoyed the city with him when she'd had that chance. Abby felt tears welling in her eyes and she fought them back.

Remembering herself, Abby found that the food had cooled off enough and she took a healthy bite out of the squid. It was delicious. Abby finished the rest off and gave the stall keeper an eager nod of approval as she chewed.

"Amazing," Abby said when her mouth was no longer full. She hoped the keeper would understand her tone if not the word itself.

The stall keeper smiled back happily. It was then that Abby realised that she had nothing to trade in return for the food. She'd used her only valuable items to acquire the candlestick and was not prepared to lose that. Abby's concerns must have been obvious because the keeper started waving her hand in dismissal, to communicate that she didn't want anything for the food. Still, Marcus had insisted last year and Abby intended to be just as polite. She glanced around, as if she might pick out inspiration from thin air. Her eyes met those of the young girl. Thanks to the lack of familial resemblance, Abby assumed that the girl was an apprentice of sorts. She was also staring at Abby quite curiously.

"Chit?" Abby prompted gently.

The girl drew her lips into her mouth and seemed bashful at having being caught staring. She spoke quietly, "Yu feisnes laik Bandrona Klark."

Abby laughed brightly at the girl's keen observation skills. "Sha?" she answered with a raised brow. She struggled for the right words, "Ai laik Klark no- nomon?"

"Her mother?" the stall keeper asked for clarification.

"Yes," Abby confirmed.

The keeper looked at Abby with a new level of respect at the discovery. Abby's face lit up as inspiration hit in response. She turned back to the girl. "Your hair?" she said, pointing to her own ponytail to demonstrate what she meant. "I can braid it like I used to do Clarke's," she offered and Abby mimed the action of plaiting her own hair.

The stall keeper said something to the girl that Abby hoped was a translation. When the keeper had finished speaking, the girl nodded vigourously and launched forward to grab hold of Abby again. Abby assumed that they were going somewhere a little more out of the way and followed without resistance. As they went, the girl seemed to be looking out for someone in the crowd. Then the girl let out a loud yell that was quickly answered by another girl of similar age. The girl was shopping with her family, but after a few words, she came bounding over to join Abby and the stall apprentice.

Abby listened carefully as the young friends began to chatter. She was sure she caught Clarke's name and the word for Mother again.

"Abby," she offered to the girls, "Ai laik Abi."

"A-bi," the fish stall girl tested. She smiled, "Ai laik Lafaya," she introduced herself and then motioned to her friend, "Em laik Popi."

In short time, Lafaya and Popi had lead Abby to a small clearing out of everyone's way, and Lafaya had directed her to take a seat on the ground. Having gained more followers on the journey, Abby had a queue of over ten children all waiting to have their hair braided. In two plaited pigtails, just like Abby used to do Clarke's when she was their age.

* * *

The blazing camp fire in Arkadia's exterior was doing wonders for fending off the harsh evening chill. The sun was setting fast and even with the distortion of the orange flames dancing in her eyes, Harper could make out the first stars of the night. They glimmered in the cloudless winter sky. Harper craned her neck, staring up, back towards the place that had once been home. Her eyes tried their best to detect the steady darkening of the sky, even though Harper had learned by now that one couldn't quite manage to perceive it. Still she kept gazing upwards, her legs stretching out in front of her on the soft grass around the fire pit.

"Earth to Harper, chhhh, come in Harper." Miller's voice finally registered in Harper's ears as he mimicked talking through a radio.

Harper blinked and righted her head, so that the small group she was sat with came back into her line of vision. Miller was looking towards her expectantly and in his hands was a metal tray from the bar, laden with shots. He thrust the drinks out towards Harper and Monty, who was sat at her left.

"Now that we've got the meeting done, it's time for your real welcome back. Sorry it's a couple of days late, we were waiting for a fresh batch of drink," Miller explained.

Octavia snorted from where she was sat with Lincoln on the opposite side of the fire. The flames were low enough for Harper to just about make out the couple's faces. In the shadows of the evening, Lincoln and Octavia seemed to blur into one being, for they huddled so close together.

"A fresh batch isn't going to make any difference, I warn you both," Octavia said. Her face contorted in an exaggerated grimace. "Good luck. Don't think I'm cleaning up after you if you make a mess."

"It's fine, it'll be good for the grass," Monty pointed out.

Harper almost gagged, "Nice, Monty. Real nice."

Monty turned and offered Harper a shrug and she waved her friend off. With their warnings about the quality of the moonshine in place, Harper reached out and took the tray off Miller with a certain amount of trepidation. She laid the platter of drinks on the floor between herself and Monty and did a quick inventory.

"Six each?" she moaned out after she'd counted.

"Technically the sixth is the bonus round. None of us think you'll make it past five," Miller explained with a smirk. He knew that Harper had a hidden competitive streak. By saying that, he was as good as issuing his new second in command a challenge.

"You aren't going to demote me if I'm a mess tomorrow are you?" Harper asked, "Not after you've encouraged me."

Miller only replied with a cryptic shrug, to which the group laughed.

Harper considered her friends a while, trying to delay the challenge set before her. She let her eyes drift over Miller, to Lincoln and Octavia, and then finally to Monty. Everyone looked happy. Peaceful. It thrilled Harper that they had the chance to do this. To just sit around a fire and drink. To act their age for once. Not that her year away hadn't been fun. With Monty and Raven in tow, boredom had been quite impossible. But to finally be home, for that was what Arkadia was going to be from now on, and to be in the comforting presence of friends was something special.

Harper grit her teeth in determination as she met Monty's gaze. He narrowed his eyes at her, cocking his head to the side in challenge.

"A race?" he ventured,

Harper laughed, "Of course," she agreed. There was really no better way to down shots than to down them as quickly as possible and have done with it.

"Alright, both of you turn so you are facing the drinks. At equal distances away," Lincoln piped up with some ground rules. He was still the voice of reason just like Harper remembered.

Harper and Monty both followed Lincoln's instructions. They sized each other up from opposite sides of the drinks tray.

"Ok, hands at your sides until I've counted you both down," Lincoln said in a tone that suggested he was taking his role as referee very seriously. "After that, may the best Skaion win."

"She can't, she's not competing," Octavia piped up.

"You're right," Harper shot back without missing a beat, "Raven isn't here for her welcome back."

Octavia shot Harper a comically dark look across the fire at the suggestion that she herself wasn't actually the best Sky person. Harper gave a nonchalant shrug in response.

"Maybe we should leave the judgement of that to people outside Skaikru," Miller suggested,

Harper let out a scoff, "Like who? I doubt Lincoln or the Commander would be impartial," she said,

"Ahh, but that would give me two votes," Octavia interjected quickly,

"Yeah, after you voted for yourself," Monty answered and Harper saw him roll his eyes. "Now can we stop delaying the inevitable?"

"Three, two, one, go!" Lincoln suddenly exclaimed without further encouragement or fair warning.

Harper almost jumped and her hand flew out wildly towards the tray, grabbing hold of the first shot she laid her fingers on. She quickly raised the shot to her lips and downed the moonshine in one gulp. Harper winced at just how foul the stuff was and it set her throat to burning and her eyes to watering. Still, fully overtaken by the competition now, Harper did not let the poorness of the moonshine dissuade her. She tossed the empty shot glass aside and reached for another. This process repeated over and over, Harper barely paying any mind to her opponent's progress, for she was so determined to be done. She had counted five shots gone so far and Harper lifted the sixth and last to her mouth and gulped it down.

"And Harper is the winner!" Lincoln announced.

It was only then that Harper focused on Monty and saw that he was only just finishing his fifth shot. Harper grinned in triumph. Although her smile soon faltered and her vision went hazy. The rush of the challenge wore off, only to be replaced with the immediate onset of dizziness as the alcohol had already gone to work. Harper blinked slowly and tried to focus. She watched Monty down his last shot with the most hilarious look of disgust on his face.

"That. Was. Disgusting," Monty spelled out once he was done.

"You lost, Monty," Octavia made sure that Monty was aware that he'd finished second.

Monty sighed, "Yeah, well I don't think Harper has functioning taste buds so, who's the real winner here?"

"If I did have them, I don't now," Harper confirmed, and she swayed slightly as she spoke. However bad the moonshine had been, at least it had done it's job. "Now I think the rest of you have some catching up to do. Let Monty and I watch you suffer a little too."

"Because that," Octavia assured, "Is what friends are for. And on that note, welcome back to the both of you, it's good to have you home. Arkadia just got like five percent more badass for your presence here."

"Five percent? That was really generous of you," Lincoln shot at Octavia. Harper watched in amusement as Lincoln pulled Octavia closer and pecked her forehead.

"I'm softening in my old age," Octavia announced.

"Really?" Monty asked, "You look more shredded than ever to me."

There was an echo of guffaws and groans around the campfire, the loudest from Harper herself thanks to the shots.

"Damn that was even worse than a Jasper joke," Harper said without thought. Then her alcohol fueled thoughts caught up with her and Harper winced apologetically.

"Well, maybe I'm trying to keep his spirit alive," Monty let out.

The mood around the campfire had shifted so suddenly and Harper was painfully aware of how the group of friends might always live on a knife's edge. One wrong word could remind everyone of the hardships they had endured. Make them think of the things they had lost when by all rights, everyone was far too young to have put up with so much.

Harper chewed at her lip, "Well then, he'd be proud of you," she offered, trying to comfort Monty and make up for her slip. She had spent a year with Monty. She knew he had spent a lot of that year coming to terms with the loss of his best friend. Even so, Harper was well aware that a year was barely anything at all when it came to bereavement. She couldn't say for sure herself if she'd truly moved past losing Zoe, and that had happened only months after their relationship had begun. To lose a best friend, especially when Monty and Jasper were so close even back in school on the Ark, was a wound that could take even longer to heal.

"Maybe. Let's just hope he'll be proud of my attempts at making the moonshine on my own too. Though anything I make probably won't be as bad as the stuff you all just made Harper and I down," Monty responded. Harper was glad that his voice had regained some levity.

"In Raion's defence, Trikru's specialty is vodka. In most settlements, everyone's potato peelings are collected up and taken to the local brewery," Lincoln said.

Harper smiled at Lincoln's defence of the Trikru healer currently in charge of the homebrew. Harper hadn't really had chance to meet the resident grounders in Arkadia, but Miller had assured her that they were a friendly bunch.

"Well then, we need to start importing it here," Miller said, "Remind me to ask Bryan when he gets back from Polis. He can use his farming contacts."

"Yeah because vodka will be the first thing on your mind when he gets here," Harper scoffed.

Miller took Harper's suggestiveness in his stride and made no attempt to argue back. But Miller didn't know what was about to hit him. Harper had to hide her grin as her eyes glanced past Miller, to where a tall figure was approaching the group. His features became distinguishable as he approached the fire. Bryan moved silently until he was in range. He grabbed Miller on both shoulders and shook his boyfriend vigorously whilst letting out a howl. The way that Miller jumped, his body nearly leaving the ground, was a picture and Harper's resolve broke. She burst out into laughter. Harper couldn't help but be a little moved as she watched Miller crane his head back so he could see where Bryan was stood behind him. And then Bryan leaned down and kissed Miller chastely.

"I'm back," Bryan announced just loud enough for Harper to hear. He quickly plonked himself down in the circle, immediately wrapping an arm around Miller's shoulders.

"What skullduggery have I been missing?" Bryan asked,

"We were giving Harper and Monty their welcome back," Miller explained, "Shots were involved."

"How was Polis, Bryan?" Lincoln asked. He clearly wanted to gain some real information before the group inevitably descended into the chaos of drinking again.

"Uneventful," Bryan said, "For us at least. Although our meeting was interrupted by an unannounced guest. Abby and Raven stayed back for another day or two to catch more time with Clarke. Whoever it was that arrived, they seem to have thrown a wrench in the works."

"I'm sure the royal couple will sort it," Octavia said resolutely. She didn't sound particularly keen on the serious turn to the conversation. Harper saw Lincoln give Octavia a nod like he understood to drop the questions for now. "Are you staying for some drinks, Bryan?" Lincoln asked.

Harper saw Bryan glance towards Miller, trying to be subtle and failing terribly.

"No, I think we're going to turn in for the night," Miller answered for his boyfriend.

Harper shared a triumphant 'I told you so' look with Monty and then turned her attention back to Miller. "What about the vodka?" she asked innocently. Miller merely shot her a rude gesture.

"Save that for Bryan," Harper bit in response. As the reunited couple made their exit, Harper gleefully joined in with the cacophony of whoops that Octavia let out.

The loss of Miller and Bryan was quickly made up for by the arrival of some unfamiliar faces. The noise from the campfire had brought a few of the Trikru healers over to investigate. Harper scanned the faces and saw that most of the healers that had ventured over were of a similar age to herself and the rest of the group.

"Room for more?" the grounder at the front asked. He directed his question to Lincoln.

"Of course," Lincoln said, gesturing for them all to take a place around the fire.

"Yeah, come enjoy some awful jokes and even more awful moonshine," Monty joked.

The simultaneous hiss of embarrassment that Lincoln and Octavia let out made Harper frown in confusion. Then she caught sight of the expression on the face of the grounder who had spoken. He did not look at all impressed.

"What's wrong with the moonshine?" he asked sternly.

Harper's eyes flickered over to Monty and she gave him a look that silently told him he was in for it now. Monty winced back.

"Damn," Monty whispered and then louder, "It's Raion, right? I'm Monty," he introduced himself with a painfully awkward wave.

Raion stared down at Monty for a few moments, his face quite unreadable. Then, the young man erupted into a loud, infectious laugh. Raion rounded the campfire and took a seat right at Monty's side.

"It's good to meet you Monty," Raion said, sounding quite friendly now. He even offered out his arm. Harper watched as Monty tentatively reached out and grasped Raion's forearm in the traditional grounder handshake. "Maybe I do have a thing or two to learn about moonshine. Though I'm not sure that's why the Commander sent me here."

"What the Commander doesn't know won't hurt her," Octavia offered.

Harper barely registered the conversation after that, however. She was too busy looking at Monty. She was too busy trying to decide if it was the glow of the fire colouring Monty's cheeks, or rather the unmistakable blush of someone who'd just discovered a new crush.

* * *

Lexa sauntered purposefully down the corridor. Her long strides made it easy to cover ground as she walked through the twisting corridor that led to Luna's room. She heard a scoff emanating from just behind her, and then Clarke appeared at her right side in Lexa's peripheral vision. She'd had to quicken her own pace to keep up.

"What's the rush?" Clarke asked.

"I'm not rushing," Lexa answered back and she glanced over to Clarke with a smirk.

Lexa was feeling playful. She was relieved that she and Clarke had at last talked through a solution to their predicament. Managing to find a decent compromise had settled Lexa's nerves. Now, with no prying eyes around in the corridor, Lexa suddenly quickened her pace to pull a little ahead of Clarke. She stopped dead and span on her heel, so that Clarke almost walked right into her. Clarke halted just shy of Lexa's person and she sighed, glaring up at Lexa, not at all amused. Waiting for Lexa to stop messing around and start walking again. Lexa detected Clarke's eagerness to keep going in the way she subtly bounced on her heels as she stood. Lexa raised a single eyebrow,

"Now who's trying to rush?" she said.

"I want to get this done," Clarke argued, mouth set into a hard line and brow knitted. She stepped forward, forcing Lexa to shuffle backwards or have her toes trodden on. They went a few paces down the corridor like that and Clarke spoke as they went, "It'll benefit us both to get this over with. You can be as goofy as you please then," she said, trying to sweeten the deal.

Lexa couldn't help but grin. She made no move to right herself and walk properly again. "There's nobody here," she argued back, "Humour me a while." With that, Lexa started to move forwards. She switched the direction of their movements and put Clarke on the back-foot.

It was as if they were doing a simple dance in the corridor. Inspired, Lexa grabbed Clarke's hands and started to shimmy her hips, putting more rhythm into each step. Her moves made Clarke's lips turn up ever so slightly. Encouraged, Lexa raised Clarke's hands above their heads with her own and guided Clarke into a half turn. Then she pulled Clarke close, until her back hit Lexa's chest. Lexa's arms looped around Clarke's middle, taking Clarke's with them for their hands were still entwined.

Lexa, why?" Clarke protested. Still, her voice was quiet and undeniably tinged with a certain amount of bashfulness. Clarke's head lolled back against Lexa's shoulder.

Lexa did not respond, she just held Clarke tighter. She thought Clarke must know by now what had Lexa acting in such a way. Still, Clarke was right that there was some logic behind Lexa's playful behaviour. It wasn't just that they were totally alone at the moment, although that was a factor. Lexa and Clarke didn't hide their relationship, but there were boundaries. Displays of affection were reserved for private moments. The only thing they would allow themselves were the odd chaste touches when out and about in the city. Providing it wasn't an official outing of some sort, they did indulge themselves. A brushed shoulder here, or a hand held for just a few seconds there. But now wasn't exactly a private moment, nor was it downtime. They were on their way to deliver a plan that could potentially be a game changer. To a woman neither of them knew whether to trust. It was a strange, liminal moment between their duties and their everyday lives.

For Lexa, it was the perfect opportunity to steal a few soft moments with Clarke. But she understood that Clarke herself was still adjusting. She was still learning how to juggle the two often conflicting aspects of her life in Polis. The role as Skaikru Ambassador, and her existence as simply Clarke. Lexa hoped that encouraging this sort of closeness in stolen seconds would help Clarke to learn how to do that.

The couple had kept their personal and professional lives very rigidly separated the past year. Arguably, the time of extended peace had made that easy to do until now. But Lexa knew from past experience that the divide couldn't always be so clear cut. Sometimes the two halves of the self would bleed into one another. And sometimes it was important that you let that happen, rather than risk snapping yourself in two.

Then again, whilst Lexa had more years experience of such a balancing act, she too was a little out of practice. She had built her walls and relied heavily on the Commander's persona to get her through the losses and traumas she had faced. So perhaps it was best for both of them that they found the middle ground slowly, testing each new step before committing to it. Lexa felt herself squeezing Clarke even tighter to her as she thought, and Lexa sighed. She knew that she would move as carefully as needs be. She would give both herself and Clarke all the time they needed, to make sure that they stayed just how they were now. Happy. United. Just a little bit too soft.

"What are you thinking, babe?" Clarke asked quietly, and she tilted her head up and peered lovingly into Lexa's face. Lexa met Clarke's questioning eyes.

"I'm thinking how much I love you," Lexa answered in a low voice. It wasn't inaccurate. She had been thinking about Clarke's character after all, and it was a character that she adored through and through.

Lexa let up her hold on Clarke when she felt Clarke shift in her arms. Clarke used the extra room to turn again so that she faced Lexa and Clarke threw her arms around Lexa's neck. They hugged again. "Ai hod yu in seinteim," Clarke breathed her reply into Lexa's neck.

Lexa wanted to stay right where they were for the rest of the day. Knowing they couldn't, Lexa tore herself out of Clarke's grasp. "We should-"

"We should," Clarke agreed and the couple began to move again.

This time Lexa measured each step so that Clarke could keep up with her. When they arrived outside Luna's door, it was as close to shoulder-to-shoulder as their height difference allowed them to be. Clarke reached out and knocked firmly on Luna's door and Lexa glared at Clarke in mock surprise,

"I didn't know you knew how to do that, Clarke" she chided.

Clarke made a face at her. Lexa had to hold back a smirk as Clarke struggled to put her expression back to normal in time as the door opened to reveal Luna.

Luna glanced over the pair a second, before moving wordlessly aside and gesturing for them to enter the room. She shut the door immediately behind them.

"I was expecting to be called to the throne room," Luna stated. Still, she waved a hand towards the seating area to show that she wasn't uncomfortable with Lexa and Clarke's more personal visit.

"This doesn't need to be formal," Lexa replied and she took a seat on the couch, leaving the chair for Luna. Clarke silently dropped onto the other end of the couch, a respectful distance away from Lexa. Lexa fought the urge to look over at her and kept her gaze locked onto Luna instead.

"Am I to expect you two to come as a pair all the time?" Luna inquired as she took her own seat. She slouched messily and tossed a leg over the opposite knee.

"Not at all," Lexa said, "But we are both invested in the decision that we've reached. We both want to hear your response."

If Luna had more to say on Clarke's presence, she chose well not to voice her thoughts aloud. Instead she measured Lexa up and Lexa's posture righted itself in a natural response to feeling scrutinised.

"So? Do you agree to Europa's offer?" Luna prompted.

Lexa flexed her jaw, "Yes," she said first. She wanted to start as positively and as simply as she could. "We wish to make contact," she confirmed. Then, before Luna could respond, "How we do that however, depends on circumstances."

Luna's smile at hearing the word 'yes' faltered at Lexa's next words. "What circumstances?"

"We need to know how many people your vessel can carry across the ocean," Lexa said.

Luna seemed to hesitate. Lexa's question had raised her suspicions. "It's a large ship that Europa gifted to me to come here. It can easily fit over a thousand souls," Luna responded at last.

Lexa gave a nod of understanding. She measured her next words carefully, knowing that they could be misconstrued. Lexa and Clarke had found a compromise. But that didn't make Lexa assume that their plan would be easy to go along with. "Then I propose to take an army of five hundred warriors across the ocean with us. This army will remain at the port on the ship, whilst my small delegation will journey on with you to meet with the ruling body of Europa. The army will be there as a protective force only, and as an example of the strength and discipline of the Kongeda. They will be under strict orders to create no disturbances. They will not attack without first being provoked-"

"We're not going to attack you," Luna interjected forcefully.

Lexa grit her teeth against the interruption. She may have chosen a non-formal setting to deliver the plan to Luna, but Lexa still expected Luna to show a certain amount of respect to her. She was the Commander. Luna's Commander.

"And we don't think that," it was Clarke who answered. Whether she had sensed Lexa's annoyance, or simply wanted to be seen to be on Luna's side Lexa wasn't sure. She trusted Clarke to handle things either way and let her continue. "But you're asking us to go an awfully long way to meet people we know nothing about. You must understand us wanting to take precautions?"

"Us?" Luna repeated back to Clarke, "Or you?" She turned her attention back to Lexa, "We're practically sisters, Lexa. You should know you can trust me."

"A Commander knows not to trust anyone blindly," Lexa said sternly, "And we have been apart for a long time."

Luna tried to keep her face passive, but she was clearly out of practice. Lexa caught the way her eyes narrowed, the flare in her nostrils as Luna breathed. She was hurt, perhaps even offended.

"If you do not wish to agree to these terms, we have another option. You return to Europa without us. Arrange for us to meet with Europa's government alone on neutral ground between our two worlds," Lexa explained the alternative plan she and Clarke had decided on.

Luna frowned, "That would take months of travelling," she protested.

Lexa felt the urge to shrug like that wasn't her problem. Instead, she squared her shoulders and jutted her chin in a clear show of superiority. The display clashed with her next words, "It is your decision to make on behalf of your people."

"I thought the Kongeda were my people too," Luna responded.

"They are. But you are not here to represent their wishes. Nor do you seem willing to see things from their point of view. What you are asking of us borders on requesting we take a blind leap of faith. I cannot do that. I must protect the Kongeda first," Lexa snapped each statement out.

She had been prepared for Luna to react a little negatively to the plan to take an army, but this had taken Lexa by surprise. Luna claimed to still think of Lexa as a sister, and yet seemed incapable of affording Lexa the benefit of the doubt. Even when Luna was expecting that very same thing from the Commander. Lexa could not gauge where Luna's loyalties may lie. She had run from the Kongeda yes, but she seemed perfectly honest about Europa's intentions towards the world she'd escaped. It was an almost impossible situation to read, even for Lexa's trained mind.

"Fine," Luna responded at last, her own voice raising to a biting half-shout. "Bring your army," she said more quietly. Her brown eyes bore into Lexa's. "You've changed a lot," she muttered.

"So have you," Lexa answered, "It can't be helped."

"Don't say that," Luna said.

Lexa caught how Luna's eyes kept sweeping over to Clarke and she felt herself grow defensive. "I will call for a meeting of the Ambassadors tomorrow evening. We will announce our intentions and request for warriors from each clan to journey to your ship. I will choose my delegation and once that is done, we leave for Europa. Is that agreed, Luna?" she asked the question forcefully, giving Luna no room to dare to disagree.

"As you wish, Commander," Luna responded, and then, "Am I to assume Clarke kom Skaikru will be among your delegation?"

Lexa glowered at the question, "Of course."

"Is there a problem with that?" Clarke spoke again now, her voice much less diplomatic than it had been before.

"No," Luna said, unconvincingly.

Lexa gulped back an angry growl and spoke in a dangerous whisper, "Speak true, Luna." It was an order.

"I don't have a problem with it," Luna reiterated, "But I have to wonder how much of the plan I just heard was your own, Commander. If it is Clarke who pushed for the army, then I have a right to know that before I let her onto my ship."

"Clarke cares about the safety of the Kongeda. And she has a vested interest in keeping it safe now that her people are a part of the coalition," Lexa answered. "Yes she made the suggestion, but it was I who agreed to it on the belief that Clarke's points were valid ones."

"I thought so," Luna responded to Lexa's honesty with barely a trace of thankfulness that the Commander had chosen to be so transparent. Instead she sounded even more perturbed. "You may be the Commander, but I remember who you were before that," Luna carried on.

Lexa felt shifted in her seat. Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end. She was absolutely aware that Luna was about to cross the line. Luna went one better and sprinted over it,

"I knew your plan was too harsh to be entirely your own," Luna said carelessly. As if that barely concealed insult towards Clarke would somehow make Lexa feel better because the words absconded Lexa from guilt.

Lexa was in fact reeling. The suggestion that Clarke's influence had made her 'too harsh' was deeply unsettling. And uncomfortably ironic. It was a far cry from the rhetoric Lexa and Clarke had faced about their relationship in the past. In fact it was the total antithesis. Lexa could only watch, stunned and hurt, as Clarke shot up onto her feet and stormed out of the room without a single word to either herself or Luna.

Lexa stayed seated, giving herself time to collect her thoughts and measure her breathing. Feeling more in control, if not exactly calm, she she stood up in one graceful motion. Her posture went totally rigid, arms behind her back. The picture of a woman who knew she was in charge.

"Perhaps it is best that neither of us use what we once knew of one another to pass judgement anymore," Lexa let out in a chilling, icy growl. "I expect to see you at the meeting tomorrow evening. With an attitude more befitting to a leader of one of the thirteen clans of my Kongeda."

Luna made no response and Lexa had to hope that it was because she'd made Luna squirm. She'd intended to make Luna realise just how out of order she'd been. But frustratingly, Lexa also wanted to believe that there was some reason for Luna's poor behavior. That there was a motive behind her putting Europa over her own people at every turn. Lexa was sure that a division of loyalty was at the crux of Luna's statements, rather than any real ill will towards either Clarke or herself. She had to believe that of her old friend. But for now, the hurt had been done and Lexa cleared her mind of anything other than the need to do damage control. She stalked out of the bedroom and paced quickly towards the elevator, hoping to catch up to Clarke. Lexa's priorities lay squarely at making sure that Clarke was alright. Jaw working furiously, Lexa walked even faster.


	2. Ties that Bind

**Ties that Bind**

The sound of the chair striking the metal cabinet echoed deafeningly throughout the vast room as Murphy tried to bash the doors to the cabinet open. He grit his teeth and winced against the noise as he brought the chair down again and again, trying to strike the locking mechanism at just the right angle to cause irreparable damage.

"Do you want me to try?" Emori's offer could only just be heard over the metallic clatter.

Murphy paused mid strike and shot a dark look over to Emori. He had to work hard not to break into a grin at the way she had her hands clamped firmly over her ears.

"I have it," Murphy assured and with a newfound air of confidence, he struck the cabinet once again and thankfully, it did the trick. There was a snapping sound from inside and the doors to the storage unit parted just slightly in defeat. "See."

"Stop gloating and get it open," Emori shot.

Murphy harrumphed. He didn't blame Emori for being keen. So far they'd swept the entire abandoned lab, situated as far as they knew in a southern corner of Azgeda, and had found little in the way of useful treasure. It wasn't exactly thrilling when the pair relied on the trade of scavenged materials to eat. So, without further ado, Murphy pulled the ruined doors to the cabinet wide open and the couple peered at their prize.

Emori's hand immediately darted out and claimed several vacuum wrapped scalpels, locked away safely now for over ninety-eight years and still shiny and new looking in their protective packaging. They'd certainly be enough to trade for a square meal. The pair shared a triumphant smile.

Whilst Emori busied herself collecting up the other bits of useful medical equipment from the locker, Murphy turned and peered about the lab. It was eerily pristine. White equipment on white tables. Unmarred but for the healthy coating of dust everywhere. Once upon a time the things would have been used by people in white coats. Now it was junk. Good for the scrap metal if Murphy and Emori could secure better transport than their own two feet, but too cumbersome for now.

A particular piece of complicated looking equipment caught Murphy's eye from the centre of the room and he wandered over to it with a frown.

"Hey, I think we had something similar to this back on the Ark," he stated, recognising the general shape of the workstation, even though this one was certainly of a much higher spec.

"That's fantastic, can you fit it in your pack?" Emori drawled, her nose still buried in the cabinet.

"You're funny," Murphy said. He experimentally leaned over and peered through a microscope. He couldn't see anything because the lens cap was on. "But really, we had one of these. I think it's used to synthesise hormones."

When Murphy turned back to Emori, she had finally stopped digging through the cabinet and was in the middle of battling to zip her pack up with everything stuffed inside it. She glanced up at him quizzically.

Murphy sighed, "You know? Body chemicals? We used them on the Ark for the contraceptive implants. And implants like Harper's. I wish she was here to see this stuff. She'd know. She did ask us to keep an eye out," Murphy mused.

That earned Murphy a snort from Emori and he folded his arms, glaring over at her.

"Listen to you," Emori laughed out, "I swear every place we've been in since the rest of the group left, you've managed to zone in on something that would help Arkadia. It's almost like you care," she said.

Murphy scowled at being caught out. "I'm not looking out for the settlement," he argued back, but then, "Just my friends." Murphy admitted. "The 'sky people' as a whole can still suck it though," he added quickly.

Emori didn't look convinced. She finally managed to fasten her pack up and lumbered it onto her back, before coming over to join Murphy next to the lab equipment. He watched as she glanced over the remnant from the old world critically.

"You're cute," she said quietly, shifting her eyes to Murphy. "I'll mark this place on the map I'm drawing so we know where to find it again. Though don't ask me how we're going to get something so big all the way back to Trikru."

"Maybe we won't have to," Murphy said simply, knowing that Emori would understand that he was alluding to one day getting the lab and other such places they'd found back up and running again. It had been a hot topic of discussion the whole time on their year long road trip to fix Raven's leg. It was lost on none of them just how helpful some of the surviving technology from the pre-war world could be.

Emori let out a breath, "I've told you, if you want to go to the Commander and ask if it's ok to use this stuff, be my guest. Just don't expect me to mourn over your stupid corpse," she said, a little harshly. It was almost exactly the same as discussions they'd had before now.

"I don't think Lexa is so bad as that," Murphy pointed out.

It bagged him a scoff and Emori shook her head, "I'm only judging her on what she's done. Or rather, what she hasn't done," she replied and left it at that. She had no need to say more, Murphy knew how she felt about the bigwigs of the Kongeda. He accepted that she was rightfully skeptical of them.

"That isn't my fight," Murphy said simply, "If Raven or someone wants to go and kick up a fuss, whatever. You and I? We were made for a quieter life of simple thievery."

"I think technically it's looting," Emori pointed out, and then she let out a yelp of fear.

Murphy echoed Emori's shout with a yell of his own and the pair of them jumped out of their skin as a loud clatter sounded in the room. Murphy instinctively raised his hands to his face, wincing as he prepared for an attack. When none came, he frowned. Then he heard Emori laughing beside him and she swatted him on the shoulder.

"Look," she said, before pointing across the room.

Murphy lowered his hands and let out a guffaw when he followed where Emori was pointing. A large feline animal that might have once been a domestic cat had it not been created in a radiation soaked world, was staring at them from atop one of the workstations. The pest had sent a surgical tray tumbling onto the floor, creating the racket that had startled the thieves. The cat hissed and bared its teeth at the intruders into its claimed territory and then it took off along the equipment and out of the room.

Murphy and Emori shared a meaningful look. "Dinner?" Murphy suggested.

Emori shot him a beautiful smile, "First one to catch it escapes skinning duty," she said and then she took off after the creature, leaving Murphy standing like an idiot.

Murphy rolled his eyes, knowing already that he had little chance of besting Emori. Still, off he ran after her, their uncharacteristically serious discussion giving way to the simpler, more instinctual thrill of the hunt.

* * *

Despite her physical fitness, Lexa was just a little short of breath by the time she swept into her bedroom to find Clarke already in there, sat moping on the sofa with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Lexa scowled at the unsettling sight as she walked over to the sofa, though she did not sit down yet, preferring to stay standing until she had been invited to enter Clarke's personal space whilst Clarke was so upset.

"How did you get here so quickly?" Clarke asked with a frown, lifting her head up to observe Lexa. Clearly she was aware that Lexa had had no chance of catching the elevator as it made its way up the tower.

Lexa's lips turned up just slightly, in an almost shy smile, "I used the ladder," Lexa admitted, and then before Clarke could question her decision, "I was worried about you," she added quietly.

Clarke's brow creased, "I'm fine," she said, not at all convincingly. Lexa watched as Clarke shifted on the couch, making more room. She patted the space beside her.

Lexa took the seat next to Clarke now that it had been offered and she stared intently at her niron's troubled face. "You don't have to be fine, Clarke. What Luna said was completely out of line," Lexa stated, voice growing harsh at the mention of Luna's name.

Lexa wanted Clarke to be absolutely aware that Lexa was just as hurt and offended by what Luna had said as Clarke was herself. Unlike with Raven, where Lexa had reserved her own judgement on the understanding that Clarke believed her friend's ire to be warranted. Then she had known that it wasn't her place to be offended on Clarke's behalf, now Lexa was just that.

When Clarke did not respond to Lexa's words, Lexa bit at her lips, trying to find the right 'in' to get Clarke to open up. "You know, I wonder if we could have avoided this if I were still able to seek council from my previous incarnations. They might have warned me against trusting Luna after so long, as you have," Lexa tried.

Clarke's response to the subject of the lost chip was instant. She gave a loud scoff and immediately reached out to grab one of Lexa's hands between her own, using the close contact to punctuate her words; "No, they'd go one better," Clarke spat out, "They'd tell you to just not bother trying to keep friends ever. That's not what I want."

Lexa smiled at Clarke's dig at the previous Commanders and was glad to have earned such an emotive response from Clarke. The door was open now. She decided to try again to bring them back onto the right topic. Whilst the loss of the chip was still something that played on Lexa's mind from time to time, now was about how Clarke was feeling. "I know that," Lexa assured, "Though after that little performance I can't say Luna is shaping up to be much of a friend." Lexa placed her free hand over Clarke's.

"I know you were close when you were kids, but can you at least tell me that you managed to knock her on her ass a few times when you trained together?" Clarke asked.

Lexa snorted at Clarke's use of humour at such a moment, though she appreciated that it was more of a hint to Clarke's state of mind than she'd received thus far. "I had my moments," she confirmed, "Although I was never smug as a child. Anya made up for that for me," she reminisced.

"Well then, thank you Anya," Clarke said and then her blue eyes, which so far had been quite stubbornly set to the floor, rose to meet Lexa's, "Seriously though, I don't want this to come between you and her. You don't have to like all of your partner's friends," she said, "And I can't help but think that there must be some motivation behind Luna's actions. She's clearly changed a lot, I saw it in the way you were glaring at her, trying to get a measure on who she is. But maybe those changes have happened for a reason."

"I'm sure," Lexa agreed, "Though that's still the problem isn't it. Luna can't reconcile who I am now with who she remembers me to be. So she's looking for an explanation and misplacing blame."

"Maybe she feels guilty," Clarke piped up, mouth thinning as the idea occurred to her.

Lexa raised a brow, "For what?"

"Well, surely she has to know that the reason you have changed so much is because you became Commander. A fate you rescued her from," Clarke pointed out.

It made sense and so Lexa gave a sage nod. She edged just a little closer to Clarke and moved one of her hands to cup Clarke's cheek. Clarke smiled and, at the insistence of Lexa's hand, met Lexa's eyes. Lexa could see love in them, in amongst the hurt.

"Or maybe she's just bitter that you got so beautiful," Clarke offered, but the smile she gave along with the complement did not reach her eyes.

Lexa scowled, "What do you mean by 'got', Clarke?" she asked.

Clarke turned her head and kissed Lexa's palm, "Come on," she said, "I've seen Anya's drawings of you as a kid."

"Charming," Lexa drawled out. Her amusement quickly faded when she saw a dark cloud pass over Clarke's face. The joking had not managed to lift Clarke's mood despite Clarke's efforts. "You look troubled, niron," Lexa stated the obvious.

"Honestly, my head is killing me," Clarke admitted with a sigh.

Lexa offered a morose smile. Then she pushed herself away from Clarke, over to the other side of the couch, where she shifted until she was sat fully on the cushion with her legs crossed. Lexa motioned to her lap, "Miya."

Clarke didn't need more encouragement and she shifted too until she was lying with her head in Lexa's lap. Lexa peered down into Clarke's face as her fingers set to work massaging Clarke's temples. They stayed silent just for a while as Clarke enjoyed being taken care of, but then she broke the silence with a little more honesty than Lexa was expecting.

"That's why it hurt so much, Luna suggesting that I have made you harsher," Clarke spoke with her eyes shut. Whether it was just to focus on the head massage or to make it easier to open up, Lexa wasn't quite sure. "It forces us to think about how much we have changed. It makes me scared to think that I'll never be able to go back to being the innocent person I was. Before the mountain, before we got dropped down on Earth. The things I've done have changed me irreparably for the worse and I hate being reminded of that," Clarke finished, her voice raising just slightly towards the end as the emotional toll wormed it's way into her words.

"It isn't exactly what you want to hear, Clarke," Lexa responded immediately, "But you are right. You have changed and there is no going back." Lexa switched from massaging Clarke's temples to the top of her head, letting her fingers work their way past the golden braids atop Clarke's head to scratch at her scalp. "But that does not mean you have been changed for the worse," Lexa continued, "You are the one in control of how the changes in your life shape you. You learn to adapt. To not let the terrible things you've seen, or done, stop you from seeking to do good. If you can manage that, then you can turn even the darkest of decisions into something positive, into something that will help your people. Or yourself."

Lexa halted the massage and lightly tapped Clarke on the cheek, silently asking Clarke to open her eyes and look at her. Clarke complied and her eyes fluttered open to meet Lexa's. She was pleased to see that Clarke's gaze was much less troubled now.

"You've done things that will haunt you forever, Clarke. As have I. But surviving those things doesn't make us harsh. It makes us strong. They give us even more reason to keep fighting for peace, to keep trying to be a force for good," Lexa finished.

Clarke creased her brow, "Do you have to be so insufferably wise?" she asked, reaching up a hand to trace the bridge of Lexa's nose and then tapping lovingly at the small bump there.

"I apologise," Lexa responded, and then she cleared her throat, "Everything will be fine!" she said in the highest voice she could manage.

"Ok, I take it back because that's even worse," Clarke laughed out and then, growing serious again, "Thank you, though. For the pep talk. And for hearing me out."

Lexa smiled. The blush on Clarke's cheeks hadn't gone unnoticed. "You're quite welcome, niron," she said, "Thank you for opening up to me and letting me try to help."

Lexa was struck then by just how much of an emotional upheaval the past two days had been. At this time yesterday, she and Clarke had been at wits end with one another. Then they had at last found a compromise, and now, here they were completely united again. It would have been more comforting if it hadn't been so taxing, and if the reason for them being so firmly on one another's side again wasn't so infuriating. Lexa flexed her jaw and tried to rid all thoughts of Luna from her mind, knowing that she should let it lie for now and better enjoy the renewed closeness today's events had inspired between herself and Clarke. Lexa beamed widely as she felt cool hands cup her cheeks and she allowed her head to be pulled forward until she was staring down at Clarke again. Clarke looked back up at her with an expression that could only be described as impish.

"Lexa," Clarke breathed Lexa's name out in a way that made Lexa sure that Clarke had as good as read her thoughts, and she knew what Clarke was about to say before she said it, "Take me to bed."

* * *

Sinclair shielded his bleary eyes against the low morning sunshine as he stepped out of the rover, his boots meeting the packed dirt of the road with a thud. He stifled a yawn and willed the crisp air to rouse him a little, quite unused to having to be up before the sun as the farmers had to be. The farmland was only a twenty-minute drive along the road that had been cut out of the rolling fields and woodland, and so the dawn had only just broken by the time the rover had reached its destination.

The burnt orange rays illuminated the impressive sight before Sinclair. Stretched out before his eyes were numerous fields, each marked off with sticks and twine. Already, a number of people, both his own and Trikru, were out working the fields. In the distance beyond the farmland, Sinclair could make out the shape of the farmhouse that had been constructed out of scrap metal. The building was simple enough, but the sight of it was also promising. It was a sign of what Skaikru were capable of, with a little help from their neighbours, and each time Sinclair visited the farms and saw that house, he could imagine Arkadia growing past its walls with buildings of similar structures. Homes. Real, permanent homes for each and every person who lived in the settlement. For a few of the farmers, those that were stationed here permanently to offer constant protection to the crops, the scrap metal construction was just that.

"It's a damn nice view, right?" Bryan's voice sounded from Sinclair's side.

Sinclair nodded, "It is," he agreed, "I'm surprised you haven't managed to convince Miller to move out here with you."

Bryan laughed, "Maybe I'll try when we're older. Or if we ever get livestock and need more hands. For now, I can tell he's settled as Guard Captain. And prouder to be following in his dad's footprints than he'll admit," he said with a smile, "I'm happy enough to keep calling Arkadia home just for that."

"It's always nice to hear someone say that," Sinclair responded, "If I achieve little else as Chancellor, knowing that I played a part in establishing a happy place to live for my people would be quite enough," he said with every sincerity.

Sinclair still felt like he wanted to pinch himself sometimes. It had been Octavia, of all people, that had suggested that he run in the election a year ago. When Sinclair had won by quite the landslide and found himself wearing the Chancellor's pin, it had been with no small amount of surprise. Sinclair was an engineer, not a politician, though plenty of his friends had argued that his robust mind, geared towards fixing and doing rather than towards the machinations of politics, was exactly what Arkadia needed. Sinclair could only vow to do his best, and knew that he was beyond fortunate to be supported by a skilled council. Despite his modesty, he allowed himself to enjoy the warm glow of pride at Bryan's words. It was important to take stock of one's own achievements, to step back and recognise when you'd fixed or improved something enough, lest you go too far and cause new problems.

"I should go and ring the bell, call everyone to a meeting to discuss the news from Polis," Bryan stated, keen to get to work whilst Sinclair was more than happy to keep admiring the view.

"I can do that," Sinclair offered, wanting to stay outdoors a bit longer, already feeling a lot more alert thanks to the brisk air. Besides that, he wanted the chance to check in on some of his farmers quietly, before the meeting brought everyone together.

"Alright, Chancellor," Bryan agreed, "You get the honour. I'll see you in the farmhouse."

Sinclair motioned his head in a goodbye and watched for a while as Bryan made his way towards the house, joined by the other members of the farm team that had journeyed with them in the back of the rover. Sinclair eventually set off in a different direction, heading for a nearby field where he'd spotted two unmistakable figures whilst he'd been admiring the landscape.

A Skaikru guard posted at the perimeter of the fields offered Sinclair a nod as he passed, which he returned. Officially, the guards posted about the land were there to protect the crops from attack. On the down low, however, they were still expected to keep an eye on the farmers, and to report back any signs of tension between the two clans that worked the land. So far, there had been no such reports. Sinclair stepped carefully over the twine that marked the perimeter of the field and he padded through rows upon neat rows of crop. Healthy, bright green leaves sprouted from the soil at even intervals and as Sinclair reached his targets, he slowed his pace and watched for a while as the two men busied themselves harvesting the carrots. Bellamy was down on his knees, pulling the vegetables from the soil and shaking the dirt off before he stacked them in the large wicker basket that Thelonius held out for him.

"Morning," Sinclair greeted as he neared the farmers.

Jaha glanced up from his task with a wide smile, "Good morning, Chancellor," he said.

Sinclair bristled slightly, still unused to hearing Jaha address him as such, the role reversal not quite sitting right with Sinclair yet. He shook the feeling off and dropped his attention to Bellamy.

"Chancellor Sinclair," Bellamy offered simply, barely looking up from the work he was doing.

"I'm supposed to be calling everyone to a meeting now that the farm council is back from Polis, but I thought I'd check in with you first," Sinclair offered in explanation for his presence.

He watched as Bellamy harvested another carrot, before the young man finally ceased working and stood up. "I'll head to the house," Bellamy said, excusing himself. He motioned towards Jaha and Sinclair watched as Jaha wordlessly passed the basket of carrots onto Bellamy.

Sinclair tried not to frown at the man's morose attitude, little changed from the last time Sinclair had visited and found himself in Bellamy's company. He let Bellamy stalk away without another word, though Bellamy stopped short after a few paces and turned back, a look of both expectation and reluctance on his face.

"Octavia is well," Sinclair announced. It was all he could offer. Sinclair knew it would be unwise to mention that he'd seen Octavia quite happily enjoying drinks with her friends last night. Especially when those same people would once have been counted among Bellamy's friends. Maybe some of them even considered him that way still, but if they ever spoke of Bellamy, Sinclair had not heard it himself. He understood the logic. Absence made the heart grow fonder, whilst a reunion would only threaten to rip open old wounds. Bellamy was here. They were there. It wasn't lost on Sinclair that it was a harsh sort of punishment. But nor had he forgotten why Bellamy had been forced to trade his weapons in for farming equipment.

"I worry about him," Jaha spoke, echoing Sinclair's thoughts.

Sinclair had to snort. "I still find it strange to see you two working together," he admitted, not really a response to what Jaha had said.

"Yes, the man who was Chancellor, and the man who shot the Chancellor now made equal by carrots," Jaha observed and he gave a low, infectious laugh, "Though I am certainly much happier with this simple lot," he finished.

Sinclair considered that, "I can't say how it would go, " he said, "But I hope Blake knows that he's welcome to visit Arkadia whenever he wishes. Polis may be off-limits to him, but Arkadia is not."

"I think he knows that," Jaha said, "But I also think the boy understands what this is. It's his punishment. His chance to atone. He takes that seriously, he works hard," Jaha narrowed his eyes, "We have found ourselves on very equal footing, haven't we?" he mused.

"On that note, my offer is open to you too. You don't have to stay out here permanently anymore," Sinclair said. Despite everything, Sinclair still held enormous respect for the previous Chancellor. They had worked together for many years on the Ark, back before they even knew about the unfixable fault with the air filtration systems that would prove to be the catalyst for everything that had happened since. Jaha had been a fine leader back then, the sort one would want to emulate. Sinclair thought that having Jaha close enough to seek advice from would be useful.

Jaha shook his head at him, "Jacapo, my friend, you make that offer every time you visit, and every time my answer is the same. I am settled here. This is my place on the ground and I don't intend to tempt fate by growing malcontent with the peace I've found." Jaha studied Sinclair, his intelligent eyes reading the situation with ease, "You are doing a fine job, Sinclair," he assured, catching onto Sinclair's lingering uncertainty and the motivation behind his offer. Jaha put out his arms and motioned to the land around them, to the rows of successfully grown food, to the farmers from two vastly different groups of people working together in harmony. "You can't ask for better proof of that than what you can see before you now."

The two men fell into a companionable silence as they began to walk to the corner of the field, to where the bell that would call the working farmers scattered across the fields back to the farmhouse.

"Although," Jaha broke the silence as they reached the bell, "Maybe a visit here and there wouldn't hurt."

Sinclair turned to face Jaha fully, surprised at this change in his old friend's response.

"I've been thinking about asking to start a support group," Jaha explained, "I have learned this past year how to come to terms with all that had happened 'the hard way', as Abby put it back then. I would like the opportunity to help others who may not yet have found their own peace do just that."

Sinclair couldn't mask the concern on his face as Jaha's motivations skirted extremely close to the very same ones that had him offering out the chips in Arkadia in the past.

"I understand your reservations, friend," Jaha said, reading Sinclair again and making Sinclair painfully aware of just how unlike a politician he was. He didn't even have a good poker face. "I know that in the past, my desire to help my people blinded me to the actual damage I was doing. I can only assure you that I have learned from my mistakes. I want to do better. I want to help my people properly; with words, and support, and time. No more magic cures, no more shortcuts."

Knowing that Jaha saw the parallels too was a comfort. Sinclair found himself warming to the idea. Whilst Arkadia was settled and the place seemed filled with hope these days, that did not change the many trials that the Skaikru had endured to reach that point. Sinclair didn't doubt that many of his people were still dealing with the loss of loved ones, with the tumultuous shift from life on the Ark to life on Earth. At the very least, a support group would bring those hidden trials to the forefront, give Sinclair a better idea of the mindset of the people he was tasked with leading.

"I'd want to be present at the meetings, or have a member of my council there. To start with, at least," Sinclair said.

"Of course," Jaha said simply, like he had nothing to hide.

"Alright," Sinclair agreed, "It's a good idea, thank you for offering your services."

"Save the thanks until we know if people will actually turn up," Jaha laughed out, self-depreciative. "I just want to try."

"To atone?" Sinclair guessed,

"No. Not to atone. Just to help. There's an important distinction there. If people want a group, but do not want me to lead it, then I will have at least helped you to identify a need and you can use that information as you wish. I always have my carrots," Jaha replied.

It was enough for Sinclair. Without another word, Sinclair reached out and rang the bell.

* * *

Lexa was standing out on the balcony of her bedroom, hands clasped behind her back and eyes downcast. She had intended to spend her rare free morning reading, for she had no pressing matters until the meeting that evening. But when she had sat down and tried, Lexa had found herself unable to focus properly on the words. It had taken her exactly three attempts to actually process that the owl had indeed died and after that, she had found herself slamming the book shut in a huff and stalking outside to peer over the city. If her inability to comprehend what she was reading hadn't been enough to warn her off, the loss of the creature that had been a near constant friend and companion in the series was far too close to some sort of bad omen. Lexa had thought it better to admit defeat when her mood was already fouled. She'd have to find some other way to occupy her time.

The cold made Lexa shiver and she unclasped her hands to pull the sleeves of the woolen sweater down over her icy fingers. The sweater wasn't hers, she'd pilfered it off Clarke, or rather she had pilfered it off the floor where Clarke had left it. It was comfortable, and it smelled like Clarke, but it was certainly no match for a decent coat. The garment hung loosely off Lexa's frame and kept slipping down one shoulder or the other. Even with the sleeves pulled over her hands, it did little to ward off the chill. Lexa retreated back indoors with her arms folded across her chest.

Thinking about Clarke made Lexa shoot a dark look towards the offending book. It sat quite innocently on the table beside the couch. Clarke had neglected to warn Lexa just how compelling the tales were when she'd urged Lexa to read them. Lexa never had before, but finding out that the series had been one of Clarke's favourites back on the Ark had been motivation enough. The pair of them had such vastly different childhoods, it was nice to think that something as simple as a story could unite their experiences just a little more.

Despite everything, Lexa found herself moving back towards the couch. She really did have an unusual amount of time to kill and it was the last book in the series. She was just about to sit down and try again when a knock sounded at the door and Lexa rounded on the noise with confusion on her face. She definitely wasn't expecting company. Lexa straightened up and tried to look as official as she could manage with her hair in wayward curls and whilst wearing ill fitted clothes. She hoped that it was Indra knocking, for she at least had been privy to seeing Lexa so dressed down enough times before.

"Enter," Lexa spoke out.

The bedroom door opened immediately and Lexa blinked as she tried to process the figure that came rushing towards her. The figure stopped just short of the seating area and Lexa observed with barely concealed amusement as Raven peered from Lexa's left side to her right, before scanning the rest of the room for the quarry that Lexa knew she would not find.

"Where's Clarke?" Raven panted out, suggesting that for some reason, she had rushed all the way to Clarke and Lexa's room.

Lexa righted her posture, "I'm afraid she's not here, Raven. She is helping Aden to teach the novitiates and left early to do that," she announced.

"Damn it," Raven hissed.

Lexa bristled at the negativity, but kept her face passive."She's been gone a while now, she shouldn't be too long. I know that Clarke intended to find you once she was back, she's looking forward to getting some time with you now our schedule has gotten a little quieter."

"So I can see," Raven responded, clearly making reference to Lexa's disheveled appearance.

Lexa had to wonder just how bizarre she must look right now to Raven, and she was painfully aware that this was the first time the two of them had been alone together. It might be amusing, if Lexa didn't feel so thoroughly exposed, caught at a time when herself and the Commander must seem like two separate entities. They weren't separate however, they were one and the same, and so even though Lexa looked about as unthreatening as anyone could right then, still she felt the air in the room grow thick with all of the pain that she, Commander Lexa, had caused the woman standing before her. Lexa held back a wince.

"Did you need her urgently? I can send a messenger," Lexa said into the quiet that had fallen.

"No," Raven answered, "I just wanted her to come see the rover. I was working on it most of yesterday and I think I've finished the adjustments. Thought we might go out for a spin."

"I'm sure Clarke will be happy to, once she's back," Lexa assured. She did feel sorry that Raven had missed Clarke, especially when the mechanic was clearly so thrilled with her accomplishments.

"I guess, but I don't want to wait until then," Raven admitted.

Lexa considered a moment, She glanced from Raven down to the book on her table and back again. She felt compelled to do more for Raven all of a sudden. Lexa swallowed, "I will join you," she said matter-of-factly, before she could think better of it.

"Is that an order from the Commander, or-"

"No. It's an offer. One you are welcome to refuse," Lexa said, and then an idea occurred to her, "Though there is a place I would like to show you, it won't take long to get there in the vehicle." Lexa did not say anymore for now, deciding to keep the urge she felt to make some sort of real effort with one of Clarke's friends close to her chest.

Raven seemed to think hard before she spoke again, her expression somewhere between pleasantly surprised and skeptical. "Why the hell not," she said at last, "If I'm not tearing you away from your book," she added with a smirk.

Lexa scoffed, "No, I've given up on it for the time being," she said.

"Hedwig?" Raven guessed immediately.

Feeling quite affronted at being caught out moping over the death of a fictional owl, Lexa could only offer a terse nod in response. A nod like she might make whilst sat upon her throne and dressed in full regalia. It made the whole turn of events seem even stranger and Lexa briefly battled with the urge to retract her offer.

Raven laughed at Lexa's silence. "Hey, no chickening out now you've offered, Commander. I swear to you I'm an excellent driver. Or at least I was before. How good I am with my new leg is an unknown as of yet. Which is why it would be neglectful of you to let me go out alone, actually. I'm 'your people' right?"

Lexa found herself smiling at Raven's logic, or lack thereof. She shrugged, "Wait outside whilst I change," she said simply.

"Awesome," Raven said and she retraced her steps towards the door to give Lexa her privacy. "Oh by the way," she called over her shoulder as she went, "Since you're going out in public you might want to consider wearing something with a high neck. Just saying."

Lexa could only blush in response.

* * *

Raven glanced across to her unusual passenger as she started the ignition. There had been little point in trying to explain the adjustments she had made to the rover, the way that Raven had moved the position of the pedals to make it easier to use them with the prosthetic, for Lexa had no idea what it had looked like before. The two of them had opted to simply get going right away to wherever it was that Lexa wanted to show Raven.

The Commander was currently inspecting the dash with a passive expression that Raven was going to go ahead an assume was there to mask nervousness. It was a fair assumption that Lexa had never been in a vehicle before and it hit Raven then just how unexpected and, if she was feeling generous, moving, Lexa's offer to join her was. Raven was glad that she'd caught Lexa when she'd been in a state so far removed from how she appeared as Commander. Lexa might feel bashful about it, but Raven didn't care. It had allowed her to finally glimpse the young woman underneath the armour. Lexa was human and far from untouchable. She had hobbies, she felt sad over books, the woman even bruised. Realising as such had made it a lot easier for Raven to throw caution to the wind and accept Lexa's offer to join her on her first drive since she'd gotten her prosthetic.

Raven gave the engine a rev before throwing the stick into reverse and then she made short work of turning the rover about so that it faced the open road rather than the perimeter of the city. Raven grinned, so far so good.

"You appear to have cracked it," Lexa stated.

Raven frowned, "That isn't a hint that you want to escape already?" she asked, feigning harshness.

"Not at all," Lexa said, "It'll take a little more than an about turn to throw me. Remember who you are talking to."

"It's difficult not to," Raven shot back with a scoff. She didn't mean anything by it, but it was the truth.

Raven began to drive forward. She saw Lexa shift in her seat out of the corner of her eye and grinned, couldn't resist the urge to speed up a little. She shifted gears and cruised along comfortably, feeling like she'd never been away from the wheel.

"The road will branch off in a while, keep heading west," Lexa instructed.

Raven made a noise to show she had heard. She concentrated on driving for a while and found that the silence between herself and Lexa got easier with each passing second, each roll of the tyres along the dirt track.

"Hey, so thank you for this," Raven said at last. She saw Lexa turn her head towards her, but Raven kept her eyes on the road.

"You're welcome," Lexa responded and then, so quietly that Raven almost didn't hear it, "I guess now is as good a chance as I'm likely to get to finally offer you my apologies."

Raven grit her teeth at the words. She had been hoping beyond hope that Lexa wouldn't venture there. "Can we not?" she said, gripping tightly to the steering wheel.

"The Commander does not apologise lightly, Raven. At least let me say it?" Lexa responded curtly.

Raven supposed Lexa had a point. She tried and failed to find a little smugness. "Go on," she said.

"I'm sorry," Lexa said simply, wise enough to keep it brief and to the point. More words wouldn't make it any better.

"Thanks," Raven said, "But really, it's done. Whichever thing you are apologising about, let's just leave it."

"As you wish," Lexa replied, her voice dropping low.

"It isn't for us. It's for Clarke's sake," Raven explained, though she was trying to figure out her emotions on the fly and probably didn't sound too convincing. She tried again, "Look, I appreciate that you've made an effort with me. I get that. And I want to do the same. But if we keep trying to cut open old wounds rather than looking ahead, it's going to be a disaster. At least if we put a full-stop on the past, if we don't get along we can just chalk it up to clashing personalities. And we can say that we at least tried."

"That's not very reassuring, Raven," Lexa laughed out.

The noise took Raven aback and she had to glance over to the Commander briefly just to make certain she wasn't hearing things. The wide grin on Lexa's face assured her that she hadn't. Amazingly, Raven found herself smiling too. She turned forwards again and guided the rover into woodland. The trees were soon packed so tightly together except for where the road was marked, that Raven had to turn the headlights on. She let out a sigh.

"I mean," she started talking again, "I understand that you did what you had to as Commander. There are expectations placed upon you that you can't fail to uphold without it potentially costing you your throne. And mountain-sized hiccup aside, I'm not stupid. I know that you keeping your power is a hell of a lot better for Skaikru than the alternatives on offer."

"I see," Lexa mused, "So it's a case of better the devil you know?"

Raven rolled her eyes. That was one way to put it, she supposed. Still, she sensed that Lexa and herself were edging towards a breakthrough and she didn't want to upset the Commander by agreeing. "I'll leave judgment of that to Clarke," she responded with a wry smile. She caught Lexa's hum of amusement. "Speaking of," she said, "as Clarke's self-appointed best friend, it is my duty to ask you how things are on that front. I understand you've had a stressful couple of days."

"Hang a left here," Lexa said, and once Raven had turned down the much narrower path she responded to Raven's probing, "There's no need to worry. Clarke and I are fine. We may have our disagreements, we may even annoy one another at times, but we're alright."

"Oh, so there's things about Clarke that annoy you? Interesting," Raven teased. She could sense Lexa's eyeroll even though she did not actually see it.

"And there's plenty about me that annoys her, I'm sure," Lexa responded quickly, not letting herself be caught out, "Her flaws are part of what makes her Clarke. I didn't just fall for the good parts of her."

Lexa's honesty was very unexpected and Raven battled for a witty response. She wondered if that had been Lexa's ploy all along, to shock Raven so much that she was now left speechless. Raven grinned, pondering if she'd actually met her witty match in the Commander. "You know, you almost had me fooled. I definitely thought that your infatuation with our illustrious Ambassador boiled down to two very shallow and entirely unmissable things."

"You may tease Clarke and I, Raven, but don't think we can't see through you. One day you will find yourself in the same predicament, and then you can expect to get everything you give now right back," Lexa said.

Raven felt herself blushing and tried her best to play along to hide it, "Teasing must have teasing?"

Lexa snorted, "Something like that," she said, and then, "I do hope you find someone that makes you feel the way I feel about Clarke. You are a good person, Raven, you deserve that."

"Shut up, Lexa," Raven scoffed, using Lexa's name without the title for the first time and hoping that Lexa wouldn't mind. She didn't seem to.

Raven was only a little concerned about masking her embarrassment that Lexa had seen right through her usual bravado after such a short amount of time together. Against all logic, there was something about Lexa as she was at that moment that was both completely disarming and utterly comforting. Then again, Lexa wasn't the only person with a certain reputation to uphold and Raven smirked devilishly, "Anyway, I just want you to know that if you do ever break Clarke's heart, I will put explosives in your breakfast."

Lexa only laughed in response.

"Hey, do you like music?" Raven piped up when Lexa was through, not wanting the rover to grow quiet again even if they were done talking for now.

"Of course," Lexa responded, "Polis has many talented musicians."

"Good, you see that little white thing there," Raven pointed blindly to the music player that was plugged into the rover's stereo system, "Middle button is to play, side buttons are to skip. Pick something good."

Raven turned the headlights back off as the rover made it out of the woods and onto a much clearer and wider dirt track. Since the way was so clear, Raven allowed herself the chance to watch as Lexa picked up the music player with a rather amusing look of confusion, bordering on fear of the small device. Lexa's thumb hit the play button and music filled the rover, carrying on from the last time it was used. Raven recognised the outro from Back in Black, Murphy's pick, and then there was a garbled mess of noises as Lexa hit the skip button after a few seconds of each song as if she knew what she was looking for. Raven gave a scowl every time Lexa skipped past a decent tune, but said nothing, curious about what would catch Lexa's ear.

"This is all very unlike what I'm used to," Lexa stated as she kept skipping.

Raven shook her head, "It might help if you gave something a chance," she pointed out.

Lexa hit the button a few more times before finally listening to Raven's advice and she let the song she had landed on play past the first few beats. When the synth really kicked in Raven spied Lexa's fingers tapping against her knee.

"I've never heard a sound like this before," Lexa said as her head started to bob.

"You wouldn't have. It's a synthesizer," Raven answered, despite knowing that her words would mean little to Lexa. "Not a bad choice though, I think you'll like the lyrics."

With that, Raven kept her eyes firmly on the road again and the pair said nothing else, content to hear the song through to its conclusion. Lexa had bobbed her head and tapped against her knees the whole time and when the song was done, she turned towards Raven.

"I liked it," she said, and then she picked the music player up and pressed the back button, so that the song started again.

Raven opened her mouth to protest, because repeating a song simply wasn't a done thing in her rover. But then her mouth went slack with surprise as Lexa started to hum along to the music and, quite astonishingly, when the lyrics started, the Commander sang along. Lexa's singing voice was high and not at all bad. In fact, she was really rather good and as the first chorus came to a finish, she had no trouble hitting the impossibly high note. A feat nobody had managed before when Raven had been around to hear it.

Raven laughed and figured that if you couldn't beat them, she might as well join them. She waited for the next verse and sang along too;

"So needless to say, I'm odds and ends,

I'll be stumbling away, slowly learning that life is ok..."

Raven's foot hit the floor and the rover tore over the dirt as she and Lexa sang and laughed their hearts out.

* * *

Lincoln had spied Octavia entering their tent in the camp erected within Arkadia's walls and, keen to take the opportunity to grab some time alone with her, he had quickly followed. It wasn't that they struggled to spend time with one another, just yesterday they'd managed to steal away on Helios for a few hours before returning come the evening, but even so, Lincoln was not one to look a gifthorse in the mouth. He lifted the material away from the tent entrance with his arm and padded into the cosy space. The tent was simple enough, only just bigger than the room they'd shared before in the main building. But the tent was undeniably more familiar to Lincoln, and the thick burlap canvas, wax-treated for waterproofing, was homely and comforting.

With quiet steps, Lincoln approached Octavia where she was standing in the centre of the tent. He was just about to launch his arms about her middle when he stopped short, noticing the obvious tension in Octavia's shoulders, the straightness of her back.

"Octavia?" he prompted gently, and despite the quietness of his voice, Octavia's body jerked and she wheeled to face him. That Octavia hadn't heard him enter the tent when she was usually so difficult to sneak up on thanks to Indra's training, made Lincoln absolutely sure that something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked, and he moved forward and placed his large hands on Octavia's cheeks, willed her to look him in the eye.

"You know what," Octavia let out in a sigh. It wasn't the clearest answer she could have given him, but it was enough.

"Quiet morning?" Lincoln prompted.

Octavia scoffed, "Doesn't cover it," she said and then she pulled herself away and began to stalk about the space. Lincoln merely waited. "I feel wired," Octavia offered at last, "I keep feeling like something is going to give, but then I have another day of doing nothing and I remember, no this is it now."

Lincoln frowned at Octavia's words, but said nothing. He knew that she was far from upset that their people had found peace at last, that her words were spoken out of the frustration of someone that had yet to find their true place in that peaceful existence.

"I'm at a loose end, Lincoln. And I know that it's starting to show," Octavia admitted.

Lincoln had to smirk at that, "You have been particularly fiery, lately," he agreed, tempering the admonishment by putting as much love into his voice as he could manage.

Octavia turned about to face him and shot him a look, before she smiled too, ever so slightly. "Well I haven't resorted to solving things with my fists again, yet. So there's that," she said.

Lincoln shook his head, still unused to the self-depreciative streak that Octavia had developed more recently. It was a constant reminder of the age difference between them. Octavia was still growing, still maturing, and she was still falling into all the traps that came along with that difficult process.

"You know I'd be more than happy to spar with you, if you ever feel the need," Lincoln offered.

"Cheeky," Octavia shot back. At last she gave up with her pacing around the tent and went and sat on the edge of the bed, though her feet still tapped against the floor. "I just wish that the answer was more obvious, you know?" she said, "Fine, people don't really need a liaison between Arkadia and the grounders anymore, but there's got to be something else."

"There is," Lincoln agreed, "We just need to figure it out."

Octavia glanced up at him from the bed, looked almost apologetic that she was voicing things that she knew Lincoln had heard numerous times before. She needn't worry. Lincoln would hear her out a million times over and a million times more if that's what Octavia needed him to do. He went and joined her on the bed, wrapping an arm about her shoulders and pulling Octavia close, until her head rested against his chest.

"I hate feeling like a spare part," Octavia mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, "I've spent my whole childhood feeling like that. Thinking that I was never going to get to live. And now, after coming so close to finding a purpose down here, it got taken away and I feel like I'm waiting for life to start all over again."

Lincoln fought back the urge to point out that life couldn't always be adventure and excitement. Sometimes it was slow and reflective and yes, just a little mundane. For him, mundanity was still a shock to the system, but for the woman who had spent her formative years hidden away under the floor, it must feel painfully familiar. So, Lincoln kept quiet and simply placed a kiss atop Octavia's head.

"Sometimes I wonder if we should just go like we always meant to. I could finish training with Indra, even if the training never gets used. At least the process would be something," Octavia mused.

"You know, if you say the words I will go," Lincoln assured, "but we have settled here. This is home."

"I know," Octavia replied, "And I'll never stop being grateful for having one of those. With you."

Lincoln squeezed Octavia just a little tighter at that, and she responded by picking up her head from his shoulder and gazing up into his face with her grey green eyes. Lincoln was happy to see that the storm within them had subsided, replaced instead with the twinkle of mischief.

Lincoln almost groaned when a voice called to them from outside the tent, "Lincoln? Octavia? Are you home?" the feminine voice called and the noise was immediately followed up by the loud babbling of a baby.

Octavia's eyes narrowed instantly at the noise and she glared at Lincoln, "What have you done?" she asked.

Lincoln winced and extracted himself from Octavia's hold, springing off the bed. He went to the entrance of the tent and swept the material aside to reveal Lois, the mother of Arkadia's month old twins. She was holding one in her arms, whilst her husband, Jonathan, was stood just behind her with the other.

"Come on in," Lincoln welcomed the parents into the tent, and then he turned back to Octavia with the widest smile he could manage upon his face, "These new parents want a little break," he explained, "I may have offered to babysit. With you," he added quickly, before Octavia could try to excuse herself.

Octavia did not respond to him, instead she picked herself up and approached the mother. "May I?" she asked cautiously.

Lincoln watched as Octavia took the small bundle of baby into her arms. He laughed at Octavia's expression. She looked close to terrified, and then as the baby began to gurgle away quite happily in her arms, Octavia visibly relaxed.

"Alright," Octavia said, "I think we can manage this."

The look of gratitude on Lois's face was quite something. "Thank you both," she replied.

"Anytime, really," Lincoln responded. He and Octavia were after all, in need of something to pass the time.

* * *

"You didn't say anything about hiking," Raven shot, her voice carrying on the healthy wind that blew across the hilltop; making the grass rustle, Raven's teeth chatter, and her face prickle. She sniffed with a cold nose.

"We could have stayed on lower ground. You said you wanted a closer look," Lexa gave back immediately.

Raven rolled her eyes. The rapport she and Lexa had found wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows, but it was something. Still, Lexa was technically right, Raven hadn't been happy enough to take in the sight before her from way back down the hill, where the two of them had had to abandon the rover.

"I may have misjudged the height and steepness of this here hill," Raven pointed out. Despite that, she felt quite pumped, the adrenaline of the climb, and the fact that she'd managed to make the hike with her new leg, coursed through her blood.

"You climbed well," Lexa offered simply, as if she might be attuned to Raven's thoughts. Raven appreciated the notion.

With their sniping through for a while, Raven took in a long breath and observed the sight before her. Lexa had brought her to the remains of a wind farm. White turbines in various states of disrepair peppered the hillside, some of them still looming tall but missing blades, others totally collapsed and lying pathetically on their sides in the grass. Even so, the sight was impressive, and not unlike some similar vistas that Raven had happened across on her year of road-tripping. The lands of the Kongeda were blemished with such remnants from the old world, a veritable breakout of abandoned factories, power plants, and other such industrial sites. And thanks to the grounders' superstition of all things technological, all of them stood empty and unused. Wasted, in Raven's opinion.

"So," Lexa spoke, "Do you know what this is?"

Raven turned to the Commander. Lexa was also taking in the sight, curiosity on her own face rather than any noticeable fear of what she saw. "It's a wind farm. If the turbines were working, the wind would make the blades spin and that movement generates electricity. Power." Raven explained as simply as she could.

Lexa nodded. Raven half expected Lexa to ask if she could finish off the job started by the nuclear war, and destroy what remained of the farm. But then, Lexa was a woman full of surprises. "Can you fix them?" she asked, "Make them generate power again?"

Raven glanced over at a turbine that had collapsed onto it's side. She hissed through her teeth, "I mean, maybe," she said, and then she remembered how she'd gotten down to Earth in the first place and felt herself straightening up, "Damn. Sure, I could. With enough time."

"Of course. And I wouldn't expect you to prioritise this over your plans for Arkadia. That comes first," Lexa assured.

"Thanks," Raven muttered, and then, because it was bugging her quite a bit, "I thought that the Kongeda feared technology though?" She heard Lexa give a hum that was almost a laugh.

"They do. But you see, I haven't ruffled any feathers in a while and I'm growing restless," Lexa said.

Raven was about to respond, but then she turned to Lexa and caught the Commander's amused expression, the raised eyebrow. Raven laughed, "At least you know how to take the piss out of yourself."

"In the right sort of company," Lexa agreed. Her face grew serious again, "In all honesty, many of the superstitions surrounding technology were born out of our fear of the Mountain Men. But now the Mountain has fallen, and perhaps it is time to move past those fears," Lexa considered.

Raven kept silent and simply listened, understanding that for all their hijinks on the way here, Lexa had opted to show the wind farm to Raven as something that, for all intents, was a call to engineering arms from a Commander to one of her subjects. The way that Lexa fell into one aspect of herself or the other, with practiced ease and elegance, briefly had Raven wondering how Clarke coped with it. Then again, Raven had now spoken to both parties enough times that she had a good idea of the answer.

"The world has reached something of an impasse of late," Lexa continued on, "Progress must be made somewhere. I am not naive enough to trust in the Kongeda's ability to appreciate the calm for too long. As Commander, it is my duty to consider how to keep my people occupied in ways that do not invite violence back into our existence. I think that this is it. I don't think that anyone can deny how useful it might be to bring power back to our world."

"Yeah, well I'm walking, hiking, proof of that fact," Raven said. Lexa didn't respond to that, the Commander seemed to be lost in her own thoughts and so Raven opted to leave Lexa to it. She surveyed the landscape one last time and felt an undeniable thrill of excitement at the prospect of getting the turbines back in functioning order. Raven could bring electricity to Polis, to the whole Kongeda eventually. She knew she could.

"I'll fix these up for you one day," Raven promised, "Thanks for bringing me here."

"Thank you for humouring me."

Raven smirked, "Yeah, that's my specialty," she said, "Though you're not so bad yourself, surprisingly enough."

"We should think about starting back, Clarke will be back from the lesson by now, she'll be wondering where we are," Lexa said.

"Maybe she thinks one of us is out in the woods, burying the other," Raven joked. She turned and started back down the hill, "Come on, Commander, wouldn't want you freezing your ass off. You'd be for it then."

Lexa laughed brightly as she fell into step beside Raven, the pair of them treading carefully back down the hill, "Oh no. Clarke wants to spend some time with you, remember. You can face her wrath."

"Lexa," Raven shot, and she waited until Lexa had turned towards her before speaking again, "Remember when Hedwig died?"

The look of exaggerated hurt on Lexa's face made Raven guffaw.

"I will leave you behind, Raven Reyes kom Skaikru," Lexa hissed.

"Why, do you know how to drive, Heda Lexa kom Trikru?" Raven asked.

"It didn't look so difficult. I am the Commander. I'm sure I could figure it out," Lexa stated, and then, "I could try?"

Raven considered a moment. She shook her head, "No," she said resolutely, "Not with me in there with you anyway. I'm sorry, Lexa, I just like living too much to take the risk."

Lexa's frown actually fell away at that, and Raven smiled when she realised exactly what she'd just said, and just how genuinely she'd meant it. The moment quickly passed however, and the two of them were back to their battle of wits as they made their way down to the rover.

* * *

"This is awesome," Raven appraised as she traced the outline of the sketch with a finger, mapping out the shape of an astronaut floating on a spacewalk.

Clarke smiled at the praise. "I was thinking it could be the main focal point on the thigh of your prosthetic," she explained, and then she reached out and flipped to the next page of the pad, a page covered with stars and swirling nebulous clouds, "with something like this as the background."

Raven considered the starry drawing and gave a nod, "Sounds good to me. You're the artist here," she said.

"Yes, but it's your leg," Clarke pointed out.

Raven didn't answer, content with appreciating Clarke's work. Clarke couldn't help but feel a warm glow in her tummy and she sighed contentedly, letting her back hit the couch cushion.

The two friends were currently sat in Clarke's bedroom, for at last Clarke had found some time to spare Raven. Lexa had been sweet enough to excuse herself to the library to give Clarke and Raven some privacy whilst they caught up. Her consideration of the friends hadn't taken Clarke by surprise at all. What had shocked her, in the best way, was coming back to an empty bedroom once she had done helping Aden with his morning teaching session. Clarke had been just about to go and hunt Lexa down when her partner had returned with Raven in tow, and even more surprising than that had been the sight of the pair of them laughing their way into the room. It had left Clarke quite speechless. Raven and Lexa had wasted no time in filling that silence with news of their adventure. Apparently Lexa had played passenger whilst Raven tried driving the rover and they had visited an old wind farm. Raven had explained animatedly how one day she was going to get it running again and provide the capital with power, but Clarke had barely cared about that news. She had simply been thrilled, ecstatic even, to see that Lexa and Raven had made an effort with one another in her absence, and more than that, appeared to be getting along rather well.

Once the unlikely duo had explained away their absence, Lexa had insisted on making herself scarce, and now Clarke was pleased to finally have the time to show Raven the designs she'd cooked up. Actually showing them off made the night's sleep she sacrificed to draw them more than worthwhile.

"Hey," Raven spoke and Clarke turned to her expectantly, "Am I alright to keep paging through, or am I likely to stumble across something incriminating?"

"Raven!" Clarke warned. She didn't know why she bothered, warnings had never put Raven off before.

"Oh, I see. You have a 'special' sketchbook for those," Raven teased.

Clarke felt colour rising to her cheeks and she opted to stay silent this time, lest she dig herself a larger hole. Then again, the ground swallowing her up right then and there wouldn't be all that unwelcomed.

Clarke watched in silence as Raven, knowing that it was safe to do so, turned the next page of the pad herself and landed on a sketch of her rover speeding off into a sunset, the vehicle a small shaded blip in the bright half-circle.

"These are all rad. I might have to get my real leg inked too at this rate. I won't be able to choose," Raven mused.

"Be careful," Clarke said, "It's easy to catch the bug when you start."

"So I've noticed," Raven said and she peered up from the sketchpad to meet Clarke's eyes a moment, before her focus shifted to Clarke's own sleeve. "It's the story of your journey down here?" Raven observed.

Clarke shifted in her seat and inspected her own tattoo, "It is," she said, glad that the meaning was not lost to others.

The tattoo ran from shoulder to wrist and had several stages to it. It began, as Clarke's artistic inspiration so often had back on the Ark, with a paintbrush and palette. The rest of the design appeared to bloom out from the bristles of the brush. Over Clarke's forearm, a space scene not too unlike the one she had designed for Raven. Floating among the stars was a watch face, as identical to Jake's watch as Clarke had managed to make it. The stars gave way to cloudy skies, a single shooting star straying from its sisters to paint trails in the Earth's atmosphere. At her elbow, right where the sky scenery gave way to a forest canopy, there was a knight chess piece. Canopy gave way to tree trunks, and then to a floral design. The stethoscope might have seemed out of place, threaded among the petals, but Clarke had wanted something for her mother and she had fond memories of using Abby's stethoscope to listen to the heartbeats of anyone who was willing to entertain the young Griffin. Below the flowers were twisting roots, the Trikru symbol upon her pulse point the last part of the design. The very end of Clarke's crash landing. The safety net. The home.

Of the many elements in Clarke's tattoo, it was the knight piece that Raven motioned to, her brows raised in a silent question.

"For Wells," Clarke explained in a mumble.

Raven nodded, "I've never really heard you talk about him," she said, inviting Clarke to do just that if she wished.

"When it happened, how it happened, I barely processed it," Clarke said, "There was so much going on, so many people counting on me. Or perhaps I thought there were people counting on me."

"No, we were," Raven countered, "I mean, me too, but-"

Clarke sniggered. "I've managed to actually deal with it the past year," she let out, "a little. Wells was part of my life before either of us could talk. But Lexa has been more than willing to lend an ear when I've needed to talk. Mostly sharing stories about how we grew up on the Ark. Just doing that, remembering and honouring him like that, it's enough."

"Yeah, must be nice to have someone you can do that with," Raven muttered. Clarke winced at the sadness in Raven's voice and regretted opening up so much to someone who had faced such similar losses. One loss they even shared more than either cared to think too hard about. "I've come to the conclusion that Lexa is a good egg. Not as much of a stick in the mud as she could have been." Raven stated, using humour to deflect away from the tension as she so often did.

On another day, Clarke might have pushed the topic, but for now she was grateful for the respite. "I'm glad you've seen that," Clarke admitted, "Sometimes I feel like my people must be looking at me like I've lost my mind."

Raven tutted, "Well, you know what we say to them, don't you?" she asked, and then before waiting for an answer, Raven waved her hand in the air, her two fingers raised in a gesture clearer than any words could be.

Clarke laughed voraciously, keeling over at the waist as her sides split.

"Besides, the people that matter, like yours truly, are thrilled for you and the future Mrs Griffin."

The laughter turned into a groan and Clarke swatted Raven on the arm, "Stop that! Last warning," she hissed.

"Why? I just want the satisfaction of being right," Raven argued back.

Unable to keep up with Raven, Clarke merely rolled her eyes. She grabbed the sketchpad out of Raven's lap and turned to another page, the one she'd drafted the whole design onto. She thrust the thing back towards Raven, hoping it would be enough of a distraction. "Here, look," Clarke said to emphasise the point.

Raven glanced down at the design and Clarke heard her gasp. Raven's finger immediately found and traced the shape of her origami pendant in the sketch.

"I had to draw it from memory," Clarke explained with a shrug.

"No, you've got it," Raven answered, her voice quiet and reflective now. There was a brief silence between them where perhaps hundreds of things passed unsaid, and then, "You don't have anything for Finn on your arm."

Clarke sucked in a breath. "No," she said, "I, well, I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't mind before I did."

Raven turned to face Clarke fully and there were tears forming in her eyes. "Of course I'm ok with it. I want him to be remembered," she said.

Clarke considered that. She pointed to a space between the inked tree trunks, left there deliberately, "I want to get the silhouette of the two-headed deer here," she explained.

Raven managed to smile, "Do it," she urged, "Hell, we could go get inked together."

It was a tempting idea, but then Clarke remembered what was about to happen that evening. She wrinkled her nose, "That would be nice, but I think you'd be waiting a while for me to have the time," she said as cryptically as she could.

Raven's eyes narrowed immediately, her sharp brain missing nothing, "Is that in reference to this big meeting happening tonight?" she asked.

"Yes," Clarke replied, "But I can't say anymore yet." Clarke grimaced as she considered that once the meeting was through, if it went how she and Lexa wanted it to go, that victory would not come without cost. Clarke would not only have to bid farewell to Raven and her mother, but to warn them of the extended and potentially dangerous absence she was about to take. "When I can tell you, I'd appreciate some support. I can't imagine my mom will take it too well," Clarke revealed.

Raven made a funny face, gritting her teeth, "Yikes," she said. "Well, I'll consider staying on your side, but no promises. I think Abby kind of adopted me yesterday and I'm not a big enough person to say I won't try to be the favourite if given the chance."

Clarke shook her head, "Unbelievable," she muttered, pretending to be hurt. Clarke couldn't keep the grin off her face, however, "I suppose that's what having a sister is for," she said.

"What? Constant competition? Maybe, can't say I've ever had a sister before to tell you," Raven said and then a look of inspiration covered her face, "Oh, does this make me the Commander's sister-in-law? Does that come with perks?"

Clarke glared at Raven with the most threatening expression she could muster. She suddenly wished that the meeting was now.

* * *

The space fell to silence as the throne room doors opened and Clarke watched as Commander Lexa came striding into the room with her small entourage. Lexa's posture never faltered as she swaggered across the carpet to the dias. She climbed the stairs and turned briskly to survey the room. Those that had entered the room with her quickly made their way to their places. Aden to the right of the throne, Indra to the left. It was the General who stepped forward and addressed the gathered Ambassadors.

"Strik yu daun gon yu Heda," Indra commanded, her strong voice echoing through the space.

Clarke made sure to keep her back rigid as she dropped onto a knee, and then she bowed her head forward in the customary display of respect. Her actions were mirrored by the other twelve Ambassadors in the throne room as each and everyone of them kneeled in deference to their Commander.

There was a beat whilst Lexa surveyed the action, and Clarke had to fight to keep her face passive as she glanced up to find Lexa's own gaze lingering on her just a little too long, before those green eyes swept past her. Clarke dropped her attention to the floor and waited, heard as Lexa took her seat on her throne. Clarke peered up again just in time to catch the barely there nod that Lexa gave, the silent permission for the Ambassadors to rise and take their own seats.

Clarke righted herself and took her place on the Skaikru Ambassador's wooden chair. The whole thing was something Clarke had done countless times already, when business required her to keep her place as Bandrona, rather than granted her the honour of being among Lexa's entourage. Clarke set her focus on Lexa, couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach at the sight of the Commander in full regalia; long overcoat, spaulder, and sash.

The only thing that was missing was Lexa's signature warpaint. There had been very little need for it the past year, except for a few ceremonial occasions. Though every now and then, the warpaint had also been donned in much less professional settings. Clarke felt herself shift in her seat, and she battled to keep her concentration. Still, the sight of Lexa sat upon her throne, commanding the rapt attention of the whole room without even doing much, was an inspiring sight to behold. It always reminded Clarke of exactly who she had fell for. The woman before her was, in Clarke's view, the absolute pinnacle of what it was to be a leader. Kind and compassionate, soft even, in times of peace. But underneath that was the darkness, the ruthlessness, the often times cold and calculating mind of someone whose duty it was to protect her people at any and all costs. It had taken time, but now Clarke knew that there wasn't a single part of Commander Lexa that she didn't accept, that she could not love.

"Ambassadors of the Coalition," Lexa spoke out, voice low and clear in the quiet, "We are gathered here this evening because we once again find ourselves on the cusp of change."

Clarke's brow knitted as she felt the shift in the atmosphere immediately. No doubt the Ambassadors had expected this meeting to be quite the non-event. They had gotten that way of late. She could see several of them fidgeting in their seats in her peripheral vision, but Clarke kept her own eyes towards the throne, fascinated at how passive Lexa's expression was even though she too must have felt the blanket of expectation and nervousness fall upon the room.

Lexa continued with her announcement, "During a meeting with the joint Skaikru and Trikru farming council, Polis received a most unexpected visitor. After many years in hiding, Luna kom Floukru returned home, bringing with her some most interesting news."

"Commander, I object! We cannot trust anything that traitor and coward tells us," it was the Yujleda Ambassador who spoke out of turn.

Clarke gulped as she saw the briefest flash of white hot anger pass over Lexa's face before serenity returned. She observed the way that Lexa set her attention upon the Ambassador, a dead-eyed stare meant to shrink the man back into his place.

"You will not speak out of turn, Bandrona Uzac," it was Indra that chastised the man from her spot beside the throne, saving Lexa the effort of dealing with the riffraff.

There was a beat, where Clarke thought that Uzac might try to push his luck and she silently willed him not to make the meeting any more difficult than it need be. Mercifully the Ambassador bowed his head, "Apologies, Heda. It will not happen again."

"No. It won't," Lexa agreed and there was little doubt that her words were meant as a threat. Just because the Kongeda had moved away from violent retaliation, did not mean that it took the breaking of laws lightly. Punishments were still necessarily harsh in a society where extended captivity were still not an option. "Now, as I was saying before the interruption," Lexa continued on, and Clarke found herself smirking just a little at the brattiness in Lexa's tone, "Luna returned to Polis and brought with her news of another society of people living across the ocean. It is among these people that Luna has spent her years, and now she has come back to offer us the chance to meet with them."

If any of the Ambassadors had something to say to that, this time they rather wisely kept quiet, appearing at least on the outside, happy enough to let Lexa finish.

"Luna has agreed to join us at this meeting, and I now invite her to speak to you all," Lexa said and she motioned with her head towards the guards at the doors.

Clarke watched as the doors were opened and then Luna made her way into the throne room, her expression open and friendly. Clarke almost scoffed at the sight, still reeling a little from what had happened last night and still absolutely certain that there was plenty Luna hadn't told herself or Lexa, and that she wouldn't be revealing tonight either.

Luna reached the foot of the dias and she was the absolute picture of obedience as she bent the knee. When she bowed her head, all Clarke could see were Luna's masses of red hair sticking out from the formal coat she now wore. Clarke looked up at Lexa. She sighed, quiet enough for nobody to notice. Clarke was still unsure how she felt about the old friends. On the one hand, she wanted more than anything for Luna, who had known Lexa as a child when so few people still living had, to once again have an important part in Lexa's life. On the other hand, Clarke was almost certain that the gap between the women was too wide, wider even than the ocean they all planned to cross together. Sometimes it was better to accept that. Lexa could find new friends, Clarke didn't doubt that. After all, Lexa and Raven had clearly made some real progress today despite everything between them. Wasn't that proof enough that Lexa didn't need to scrabble for connections that had been broken beyond repair? Clarke caught herself, her mouth thinning to a hard line. She was letting her drive to fix things rule her. It wasn't her place to make the decision either way. It was Lexa's.

Clarke blinked her thoughts away and found that during her thinking time, she had completely missed Luna being given permission to begin addressing the room. Clarke willed herself to focus on the words now, and hoped she hadn't missed too much. At least she could ask Lexa to fill her in after the meeting, even if it would mean admitting that she had let her concentration waiver.

"- the Government of Europa, led by President Dominique, wishes to meet with Commander Lexa and an entourage of her choosing. Dominique has made it clear that I am to assure you that Europa means no ill will towards the Kongeda, they merely wish to start a dialogue that may one day lead to a positive relationship between the two peoples, maybe even open up the possibility of trade and communication across the Ocean," Luna was saying, "I have agreed to the Commander's terms, and will allow her to journey to Europa accompanied by a diplomatic delegation, and as per her request, an army five-hundred strong to act as a failsafe, should Europa mean to deceive or endanger the Kongeda in anyway. That I have agreed to this should indicate to you that I have no doubts of Europa's harmless intentions," she finished.

Clarke considered the new information about the government of Europa. It had a President. Clarke chastised herself again for zoning out and hoped she hadn't missed any more useful information.

"Thank you, Luna," Lexa spoke again now, still sitting rigidly in her throne, "Now whilst I have already shown my willingness to journey to Europa with the terms Luna has described in place, I understand that this is a decision that may affect the whole Kongeda. Therefore, it is my duty to be as transparent as possible with you all and to put the final decision to a vote. Before that, do any of you have any other suggestions, or concerns, that you wish to discuss?" Lexa asked and Clarke noted the way that Lexa's eyes met Uzac's as she opened the room up to discussion. If only he had waited.

It was the Trishana Ambassador whom Lexa nodded to first, and the woman briefly bowed her head before speaking, "This is a dangerous quest you talk of going on, Heda. You would be gone a long time. If they wish to speak with you, why did they not journey here themselves? You should wait and let them do that," she suggested.

"This was considered," Luna answered for Lexa. This time, since Luna was more knowledgeable about that matter than Lexa herself, the Commander allowed it. "However, it was decided that I should come alone as a familiar face. The Government of an entirely different society arriving at your shore could easily have been mistaken as an attempt to colonize the Kongeda. That is not our intention at all."

The Ambassador made a noise that she was satisfied. A few of the hands in the room dropped, clearly their own questions had been answered too. Only one remained and Lexa motioned her head to give the Ingranrona Ambassador the right to speak.

"I agree that your journeying there is a risk. Is doing nothing at all not an option? We know that one another exist now, best to leave each society to its own," he said.

"May I?" Clarke spoke, asking permission to give the answer that had leapt into her throat.

Lexa gave her a nod.

"Do you really think that either society will be happy to exist so anonymously to the other? Now that we are aware of them, and they of us, it is better to be proactive. We accept the invitation to talk, make a good impression. If nothing comes of that, then at least we will know each other as friendly. As people. We take away the fear of the unknown," Clarke said and she knew that she was echoing what Lexa had pointed out in their initial spat over what to do. She hoped that hearing it from one of his equals would set the Ambassador at ease. It seemed to, for he said nothing more in response to her.

"I know that this will require my extended absence," Lexa said, "But I think that this past year has proven to us all that this Kongeda is functioning as it was always intended to. I trust you all to aid your respective leaders in guiding the thirteen clans during my absence. And I will be leaving the throne in the care of Aden. His novitiate training makes him more than capable of rising to the occasion. General Indra will also remain here to support him." Lexa paused for a moment. Clarke knew that she was letting the obvious praise of the Ambassadors soak in the air a little, buttering them up before the crunch. "And now it is time to vote. All those in favour of accepting Luna's offer and journeying to Europa?"

There was a beat, and then all of the Ambassadors stood up and gave a 'Sha' of agreement, Clarke the first among them to do so.

"Very well," Lexa said, "I ask each of you to arrange for a number of warriors to be sent to the Floukru territory coast, where they will find Luna's ship. I will choose my own delegation and then, we travel to Europa."

Though she had been pleased with the unanimous vote, Clarke felt herself gritting her teeth. There was no going back now. She was going across the ocean.

* * *

Murphy pulled his face even as he took a healthy bite out of the cat thing that Emori had caught in the abandoned lab. It tasted foul and the meat was stringy, but it beat starving. And it meant that he and Emori could afford to hold onto some of the medical equipment they'd looted rather than trading it all for a bite to eat when they reached the next settlement. There hadn't been a large one for some miles.

"Hey, how's the map coming?" Murphy asked with a full mouth.

Emori was sat across the cooking fire and using its dying embers to light her work as she etched out the new areas they'd ventured into today in charcoal on canvas. She looked up from what she was charting and smiled,

"It looks good," she answered, "I'm trying to work out how close to the border we've gotten. We've strayed quite far south west recently."

Murphy finished off his food before replying. "Are you sure we're still in Azgeda?"

Emori shrugged, "I think so, but maybe we should head-"

Emori did not finish her sentence and instead, Murphy heard her let out a scream of terror. He only heard it, because someone had crept up behind him and shoved a black material bag over his head. Murphy struggled hard against the attacker, but it was no use. Whoever it was was much bigger and stronger than himself and Murphy felt queasy with fear and pain as his struggling only ended with him being pushed roughly to the floor. He would have been eating dirt if not for the bag.

Still, Murphy tried to break loose as he felt his hands being tied behind his back. But when he felt himself being picked up and slung over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the fight went out of him. His ears were buzzing from the shock and his brain was on overdrive. He had no idea if Emori had suffered the same fate or worse, but he could not find his voice to call for her.

Murphy was carried a small ways and then he heard the unmistakable noise of a cage door being opened. He was tossed into the cage carelessly and let out a groan as his front hit wood. He turned on his side and his back met the metal wire of the cage. Another thud sounded, and despite the fear coursing through him, despite the way Murphy's stomach rolled, he took great comfort in finally knowing that Emori had not been left behind or worse. And then he realised that either of those fates might actually be better for her than whatever was in store for them now. Murphy choked back a sob as he shuffled on the wooden surface until his knees knocked against Emori's. He dared not do anymore than that.

Murphy almost vomited when the whole cage lurched, and then the whole thing was moving along. Murphy realised then that it wasn't just a cage, but a cart, and by willing his ears to work properly again, Murphy could hear the sound of hooves on a dirt track. He breathed hard, the air in the bag growing warm and stale. Murphy lay completely still in the cart and cursed his entire existence.


	3. Que Sera Sera

Better late than never. That was the pervasive mood in the room as Clarke finally took her seat around the table to have an evening meal with Lexa, Raven, and her mother. They were not in one of the formal dining rooms, but one of Lexa and Clarke's private rooms. It was much smaller in size, more intimate, and more reflective of the Commander's personal tastes than the bare functionality of the larger spaces on the tower floors below. The dining table was round, light wood, and the matching chairs were made that much more comfortable by fur lined cushions on the seats. The walls of the room displayed several pieces of art, some of which Clarke herself had created. And the space was lit with a multitude of candles, arranged on sticks and tables just so, to make the room bright and pleasant to dine in.

The setting was perfect for such an informal, and yet rather significant meal such as this one was to be. It was the first private meal Clarke and Lexa were sharing as a couple with Abby. Dining with one's significant other and a parent was actually something that Clarke had never gotten round to back on the Ark. That fact made the evening particularly special. It was a shame then, that this important first was already tainted by the knowledge that somewhere between the peas and the potatoes, Clarke was going to have to break the news of her imminent departure for Europa to her mother. It was a goodbye meal of quite epic proportions. And thus far, only half the table knew that.

Clarke felt the surreptitious squeeze of a hand on her knee. She turned towards Lexa, trying to will the scowl that had prompted Lexa's comforting gesture to relax into something resembling happiness at the present company. She communicated silently that Lexa had no need to worry about her, and after a few moments of gazing into one another's eyes, Lexa seemed satisfied and turned her attention across the table to their guests.

"Are you both comfortable enough?" Lexa asked politely, before motioning her head for the guard come butler at the door to allow the servants to enter with the starters.

"Absolutely," it was Abby who replied with a smile. Clarke watched her mother survey the room, noted how Abby's eyes lingered over one of Clarke's paintings, the large one of the city view from the throne room balcony. Abby no doubt recognized her daughter's work. "I suppose it would be biased of me to commend your taste in artistic pieces, Commander."

"Please, Lexa is fine," Lexa insisted.

There was no need for proper decorum or etiquette at this meal. Clarke noted with a smirk that that was certainly a good thing, for not a moment after the servants had laid the soup and bread baskets on the table, Raven had swiped a piece of the freshly baked, well-buttered bread. Raven crammed it into her mouth before the Commander herself had even registered the arrival of the first course. Clarke took the opportunity and claimed a crusty end-piece for herself.

"And not at all, Abby," Lexa continued, "Clarke is a fine artist. I'd cover all of the walls in the tower in her work if the tastes of the Kongeda didn't run so utilitarian."

"So you only get to decorate your private rooms?" Raven piped up in between mouthfuls of bread, "Is that why it's such a damn fire hazard in here?"

Clarke laughed and looked up from her root vegetable soup, that she had been diligently dipping her bread into, to offer her friend a cheeky wink. It was in admiration of Raven's daring to tease Lexa.

"It is," Lexa confirmed, taking it all in her stride, letting the cool collected nature of Heda serve her well even in this informal setting, "I would push my case, but too many ornaments are indeed a little dangerous when brawls have been a common occurrence in the larger dining rooms."

"I'll take my steak and my eye blue, please," Clarke offered to that and the table laughed.

"Actually, that reminds me," Abby put in, and Clarke focused on her mother and saw that she was beaming as if she was very pleased with herself about something. "I picked you two up a small gift at the market. Nothing special, but you could say I saw it and thought of you both," Abby announced and then she fished in her pocket and pulled from it a small, very rustic, table top candlestick. She handed the gift over and Clarke wasn't surprised when Lexa reached and took it enthusiastically.

"I can't believe you're encouraging her," Clarke mock complained, but she felt herself smiling at the gesture, and at Lexa's own grin at the presented gift.

"I know you must have hundreds of them already, and in better condition, but I hope that this one can be special," Abby offered, and then she looked Clarke directly in the eye and said, "I always wanted to have a candlelit dinner with your father, like the ones in the movies we all used to sit and watch together."

Clarke gave her mother a grateful look, suddenly understanding the true depth of the sentiment behind the otherwise simple present.

"This is a lovely gift, Abby, thank you," Lexa appraised, and Clarke knew that Lexa was moved too, for her voice was just slightly higher in pitch than usual.

Clarke reached and took the candlestick from Lexa, letting their hands brush together as she did so, and she placed it in the center of the table where it belonged. Before Lexa could request for the butler to do it, Clarke jumped off her seat and then she acquired a long dinner candle from a different stand, placing it into their new one. The single flame brought the light wooden surface of the table to life with light and shadow.

When the room descended into a natural silence, the four of them concentrated on the food before them. By now, the soup was at just the right temperature for eating, and Clarke made short work of her bowl. The group exchanged the odd bouts of small talk between spoonfuls; about the progress of the farms, and the lingering chill in the air when spring should soon be upon them. It was as natural and friendly an atmosphere as you could want at an evening meal, and still it did not set Clarke at ease. When Lexa was finished with her soup, the Commander was in the habit of eating slowly since it was custom for every other diner to be finished once Lexa was, she motioned for the bowls to be replaced with the plates of main course. The mouth-watering sight of beef and potatoes piled high on Clarke's plate was tempered by the nervous turns her stomach was doing. She fought through them and began to eat, aware that this course was her second to last chance.

"I thought I was excited to return to Polis so that I can go and get inked with Clarke," Raven said as she attacked her meat vigorously with her cutlery, "But I think I might be more excited about getting to eat another meal like this. No offence, Griffin."

Clarke snorted. "None taken," she said, and she meant it. The food was amazing. Besides that, Clarke was thrilled that Raven was also present for the meal. Especially after their previous conversation. Raven was a sister to Clarke and she more than belonged around the table.

"Oh, I didn't realise Clarke had already gotten your designs ready," Abby replied, "If that's the case, why don't we postpone leaving just one more day and you two can go tomorrow?"

Clarke felt her throat grow dry and she grasped at her cup of berry wine and took a healthy gulp. This was it. She was simultaneously thankful to Raven for offering her a natural way to start the announcement, and cursing that it had happened so soon.

"Mom," Clarke started hoarsely as she replaced her cup on the table. Her eyes darted nervously about the room before Clarke finally psyched herself up to look Abby in the eye, "I have something to tell you. About the news that our other unexpected visitor brought with her." Clarke grimaced and thought it best to add, "You might not like the news."

Clarke watched as Abby frowned and set her knife and fork down on her plate, giving her daughter her full attention. "What is it?" she whispered out.

Clarke found herself glancing over to Lexa for support, even though the couple knew that the news should come from Clarke herself. Lexa offered her one of those barely there nods and Clarke tried and failed to let Lexa's show of confidence in her wash over her.

"I'm going away tomorrow, I'm not sure for how long," Clarke said. She gulped in a breath and took the final leap, "Mom, our visitor has come all the way from what was once Europe. Apparently there is a whole other society over there and they wish to make contact with the Kongeda. Lexa and I are going across the ocean to meet with their government and hopefully make new allies."

"Is it safe?" Abby's response was immediate, terse and nervy.

Clarke gulped and gave a shrug in her mother's direction. "We can't know for sure," she admitted, opting for honesty. If they'd been transparent with the Kongeda, then Clarke's own family deserved the same. She watched how her mother's face shifted from a passive glare to a crestfallen frown. Clarke's own scowl returned; a reflection across the table.

"Let me come with you," Abby muttered, speaking to her plate rather than her daughter now, no doubt to hide the panic in her eyes from Clarke. The effort was futile, Clarke didn't need to see it to know it was there. The whole room felt heavy with it.

"No," Clarke responded firmly, "You need to go back to Arkadia with Raven. Our people need you there. Lincoln needs your support."

Clarke was at least grateful that Abby had offered to come with them, rather than start arguing against them going. It meant that Abby did understand that the decision was final, and that it was a necessity that Clarke go along to Europa at Lexa's side. There'd be no changing that.

"Lincoln has been doing fine without me," Abby started to argue back, though Clarke had been expecting this argument and let her mother get no further.

"Yes, they have been managing," she said, fighting now to keep her voice even, "But every report I've had back tells me that they are waiting for you so that the trade of knowledge can finally begin. Arkadia needs you there so that it can move forward, we aren't stalling that. Besides, Lexa has already sent word for some of the Trikru field healers currently stationed in Arkadia to journey to the ship, you need to go back to make up for those lost numbers."

"Then let me go and leave them there. Have you called for any of our people to join you? Wouldn't it be best to go well represented?" Abby shot back.

After sitting in tense silence besides Clarke throughout the exchange so far, it was Lexa who responded now, her own voice totally under control, "In an ideal world, yes. But Skaikru do not have the numbers to risk calling them to such an uncertain endeavor," the Commander offered, communicating to Abby that the decision had been made with Skaikru's best interests in mind, "And the fact remains that Skaikru has no army. Good fighters, yes. But no rigorous and disciplined warriors."

"Come on, you can say it," Raven chimed in with a light voice, "You're just worried if you take some of us, we'll point our weapons in the wrong direction."

Clarke was relieved that she could detect that Raven was joking, albeit darkly, to lift the tension. Still, when neither she or Lexa responded to dispel the suggestion, Clarke wasn't sure that Raven's efforts had helped at all. Clarke grimaced and stabbed pettily at an otherwise forgotten potato on her plate. She forced herself to look across at her mother again and waited until Abby met her stare

"Look, you want to know the real reason I need you to stay?" Clarke said, her voice pleading. She saw Abby give a nod and sucked in a breath before continuing, "I need to know that someone I can trust is still here. Still fighting for Skaikru's place in the Kongeda. If something happens over there and we get delayed, or don't come back at all, I need to know that you'll be here to carry on my work, Mom. I need to know that my people will have the protection they need."

A tense number of seconds passed before Abby visibly relaxed in her chair. She gave a slow, defeated nod of understanding, "Alright, Clarke. You've made your point."

Clarke had to hold back her sigh of relief. "Good," she said, "That means I don't have to pull rank on you." If Abby had not relented at Clarke's plea from daughter to mother, then Clarke knew that she would have been more than willing to order Abby to stay as Ambassador of Skaikru, as Abby's superior.

"Don't worry so much, Doc," Raven said and Clarke watched gratefully as Raven patted her mother on the arm, "Your daughter's a badass like you. She'll pull this off and be back again bossing us all around in no time."

"Thanks, Raven," Clarke shot, narrowing her eyes at her friend. The death glare shifted to Lexa when Clarke heard her snort.

"Raven is right," Lexa said defensively, "We're sure to make a good impression over there and be back quickly, what with all your favorable attributes."

Clarke grit her teeth at being ganged up on again, just like when Raven and her mother had first surprised her in the sparring circle. Still, she felt the tension in the room lift with each passing moment, and if she had to be the subject of the teasing to ease the atmosphere, Clarke supposed she would grin and bear it.

With the debate resolved, everyone returned to their meals and finished quickly before the food could get any colder. When dessert, warm apple pie, had been served, it was Abby who broke the silence once more.

"So, I suppose that the end of this meal will be another big goodbye?" she asked, "We didn't want to get you up early to see us off at dawn anyway, and especially not when you two have a long journey to prepare for yourselves."

Clarke gave an apologetic look, but found herself unable to respond. The dejected tone in her mother's voice was awful to hear, hardly better than outward sorrow. And she felt the pain of the imminent farewell just as much as Abby did. The last time they'd parted ways had been when Clarke and Lexa had left for Polis, with the prospect of Lexa having to fight to get her throne back looming over them all. Now, they were heading into another unknown, and leaving Abby behind yet again. Clarke bristled at the irony. She'd been so aware of how routine peace had become recently, that she'd forgotten that for all she and her people had endured, there was a routine to be found in uncertain times too.

"You'll have to visit again as soon as we're back," Lexa spoke to fill Clarke's silence, "Or we can journey to Arkadia. It will be nice to see what progress the settlement has made in our absence, now that it's medical and engineering experts are returning home."

Clarke allowed herself a private smile at Lexa's diplomacy, at how she knew exactly what to say to lift Clarke's mood even a little. Still, the late evening meal continued with an insurmountable sense of foreboding hanging over it. And despite it's moreishness, everyone ate their dessert slowly, delaying the inevitable parting after the last bite for as long as they could.

* * *

Monty ground his teeth in time to the grinding of the mortar and pestle he was using. He'd gotten an early start in the lab this morning and was currently crushing together different medicinal herbs that he hoped once combined in a pill form, would be a more effective form of pain relief than administering the ingredients separately. It was something Monty had always been good at on the Ark, taking well-known remedies and finding ways to improve them. It had been a particularly important skill when resources had been so scarce and medicine needed to be effective as possible. Now there was a whole host of herbs and concoctions to work with, and Monty had found himself settling into his new role in Arkadia quickly. He always enjoyed a challenge, something that required patience and thought. Monty was focused so raptly on his task that he did not notice the person who entered the small lab adjoining the medbay. It took him several moments to become aware of the feeling of being watched, and then Monty glanced up from his work to find Harper grinning at him suspiciously.

"Hey, something you need?" Monty asked. He placed the mortar and pestle down on the metal workstation and flexed his wrist, glad now for a reason to rest.

"No," Harper said and she was still beaming down at him. "I was just passing by and got to wondering whether you'd spoken to Raion?"

Monty held Harper's expectant stare, swallowed back an annoyed sigh. "I haven't," he answered, "I've had no reason to."

"Oh, come on, Monty," Harper scoffed back, hands on her hips.

"Harper," Monty warned, "Whatever devious plan is hatching in your mind, you can forget it."

Harper groaned and plopped herself down on the seat opposite Monty's, letting her elbows rest on the table between the various pharmaceutical paraphernalia Monty had been working with. "Monty. Please. Talk to the boy."

"Why have you got it in your head that I need to?" Monty protested, but he knew Harper wasn't buying his uncaring attitude for a second. They'd spent the best part of a year travelling together in close confines and there was little of one another's personality that the other could not read these days.

"Because you're a beautiful person and you deserve someone who makes you as gooey-eyed and smiley as you were at the campfire?" Harper offered in a sing song voice. "And I want the satisfaction of helping it to happen."

"Or the bitter sting of disappointment when it doesn't?" Monty gave back, trying to fight off the warm redness he could feel creeping into his cheeks and ears.

"Well with an attitude like that," Harper moaned. "Ok, look me in the eye and tell me you don't think he's gorgeous."

Monty glared into Harper's eyes as asked, opened his mouth, apparently committed to telling the lie. He faltered before making a sound and let his focus drift awkwardly to the corner of the table instead. He had been busted and there was little to be done about it.

"He's, well he's alright," Monty muttered, "But that doesn't mean I want to do anything about it."

"Monty!" Harper exclaimed now, and she smacked the metal tabletop with her palm, "Come on. You're young. You're lovely."

"You sound like my Mom, except maybe even more embarrassing," Monty sniped.

"I'm going to ignore that," Harper said, "Point is you know, whatever reasons you have for not wanting a bit of fun, you've got to forget them now. This is it Monty. We made it. So we might as well enjoy it."

Monty swallowed. Harper was right, he hated the fact, but she was. After the tumultuous journey to the ground, the challenges of settling in their new home, it did at last feel like they'd made it to the finish line. Still, if their time on Earth had taught Monty anything, it was caution. Nobody knew what was around the corner. He couldn't be blamed for being reluctant to just let go and have fun, as Harper put it. Doing that seemed like it would take more optimism than Monty possessed anymore. But nor could he wait forever to put the past behind him and start living. Monty shook his head.

"You're not going to stop pestering me are you?" Monty said.

Harper shrugged, "I mean if you seriously want me to, you know I will."

Monty considered it. "Fine. Next time I see Raion I'll say hello. I promise."

Harper's wide smile returned. "I can do better than that," she said and before Monty could ask for an explanation, Harper had darted off her seat and out of the room.

Monty stared at the exit, feeling utterly perplexed. He gave up trying to guess what tricks and nonsense Harper had up her sleeve, though knowing her style it would be something devious. Defeated, Monty picked back up with his work. He hoped to have at least one batch of the pills ready by the end of the day to be tested out. He'd just found his rhythm again with the mortar and pestle when footsteps sounded approaching the room. Monty was alerted to them immediately this time, expecting it to be Harper again, and he stared at the entrance.

Monty felt his mouth go dry at the sight of Raion standing just inside the lab. Raion with his lovely tall frame, and his wavy brown hair, and eyes that seemed golden in the low light. There was no denying it, the grounder was gorgeous just like Harper had suggested.

"Um, hi," Monty managed to say in greeting.

Raion offered him a smile back and then looked about the lab in confusion. "Harper told me you had something to show me?" he said, unknowingly letting slip about Harper's skulduggery. Harper was good, Monty had to give her that.

By now Monty's ears were burning with embarrassment and he could hear his pulse. He scrabbled for an answer, an explanation to give. "Yeah," he started, "Drugs. I'm making drugs."

Monty nearly groaned when Raion shot him a surprised, but slightly amused look. He felt ridiculous.

"Nothing exciting. Just painkillers," Monty covered his tracks, "I'm combining several ingredients into one pill and hoping they'll work faster that way. Do you want me to talk you through the process?"

Raion gave a nod. "Sounds good," he said, and he sat down next to the workstation in the seat Harper had recently vacated.

Knowing that the work required uttermost concentration, Monty cursed inwardly at the close proximity. It was going to make focusing a hell of a lot more difficult. He decided that once he was done with the mortar and pestle, he might just consider throwing the heavy thing at Harper next time he saw her.

* * *

Emori couldn't be sure how long they'd travelled for on the back of the caged wagon. All she knew is that it had been a cool evening when they left and now, as she was unceremoniously dragged from the cart and made to stand, her skin prickled with uncomfortable, dry heat that suggested it must be the next day. It had certainly felt like a long journey and Emori's body felt so numb from lying awkwardly in the cart for hours, pressed up against Murphy, that Emori could barely stand on feet and legs that burned with pins and needles. The standing wasn't any better than the lying down. There was no relief to be had yet, if ever again.

Emori was left swaying under her own support just long enough for Murphy to be hefted from the wagon too, and Emori listened carefully as Murphy's feet hit the ground. She instinctively reached out towards the noise, thought she might just have brushed Murphy's jacket with her fingertips, when a firm hand clasped painfully at her wrists and forcibly moved her groping hands away from Murphy.

"Less of that," came a gruff male voice. It was the first time since the kidnap that either of the captors, for there had to have been one each to snatch Emori and Murphy, had spoken. They hadn't even made conversation on the journey, no doubt finding silence easier than trying to avoid saying too much about their destination with their prisoner's careful ears in range.

Emori growled inside her bag, turning the air around her face hot and damp. The rough hands did not let go of her wrists, but they did loosen just slightly, so that the man could drag Emori along without breaking any bones. Emori didn't struggle. Her body was far beyond being able to put up any fight. Instead, she most uncharacteristically let herself be led to wherever without any protest whatsoever. She did however, try to gather as much information about her surroundings as she could without her eyes.

Thankfully blood had returned to her extremities by now, and the ground underneath her feet felt rocky. Emori was sure she could feel the scratch of airborne dust on her skin. Sand even. Between that sensation and the stifling heat, Emori would have guessed that she were back in the Dead Zone, if she wasn't aware that it would have been impossible to journey there in the space of one night. Still, the warmth suggested they had struck much further south, but other than that, other than the sound and feel of cracked rock underfoot, Emori could gleam little else about their whereabouts.

It was no matter really. Emori had danced this dance on the other side enough times to know that her answers were coming. She'd be taken before whoever the kidnappers answered to, and whoever it was would parlay with Emori and Murphy. If they weren't to be killed on the spot of course, but then it would be a wasted journey bringing them here.

Emori was dragged along away from the cart for a short time, and then she let out a sigh of relief as she was taken inside a building. Now the air was much cooler, and though the material was too thick to perceive any light through the bag on her head, Emori imagined that the building was a lot dimmer than the scorching outdoors. Footsteps echoed off of a smooth floor, as she was led in a straight line a number of paces, before being brought to a stop by her captor when he pushed back on her wrists to halt her progress. Emori stood still, and as defiantly straight as she could with her fatigued bones. She heard Murphy being brought to a halt right at her side. Emori prepared to face whomever was in the building.

"Heda," the other man, Murphy's guard greeted, it had to be the other man because his voice was new. "We bring you two trespassers."

Emori frowned in confusion at hearing the use of that title. There was certainly no way that she and Murphy had been carted all the way to Polis, and besides that, she knew the Commander lived in a tower. Wherever they were now, it appeared as of yet to be on a single level.

"Why do you bring them before me? Why did you not kill them and save your horses the effort of dragging this vermin to my door?" a firm voice spoke, and it definitely did not belong to Commander Lexa.

"The girl is one of us," the captor explained hurriedly, clearly fearing for his life at his apparent misjudgment and keen to make amends. Whoever this 'Heda' was, he was absolutely the one in control. "She seems close to the boy. We did not wish to separate them."

Emori had to smirk at that, even as the mystery deepened.

"Yes, I see now," said not-Heda, "Very well Ari, you may remove the bags."

Before Ari could do as requested of him, Emori squeezed her eyes tight shut, ready to fend off whatever light there was in the room after so long in total darkness. She felt the material sweep up over her face as the bag was lifted from her head, and then ever so slowly, Emori allowed her eyes to open. Thankfully, the building, which was constructed out of reddish brown stone and packed mud, was dim like Emori had thought. There were only a small number of tiny windows to allow natural light to illuminate the space. She quickly inspected the structure, observed that it was a sort of longhouse, and that the only clear exit was the one directly behind her. After appraising the space and coming to the conclusion that flight was not an option, Emori gritted her teeth and let her eyes fall at last to the man sat on a stony throne before her. He stared back at her with an unreadable glimmer in his grey eyes, and though he remained silent for some seconds after seeing Emori and Murphy properly, Emori could tell that this was a powerful man, who knew how to command respect.

"I hope that my men weren't over-rough with you," he said at last, "We do not take kindly to trespassers, but we can at least afford a little hospitality to one of our own."

"What the hell does that mean? Where are we, and why the hell did your goon call you 'Heda' just now?" Murphy shot out his questions in rapid succession before Emori had the chance to ask her own. She watched nervously as the man's attention shifted to Murphy.

"He means clanless, don't you?" Emori answered for the man. Perhaps she wanted his focus back onto her out of some desire to protect Murphy, or perhaps she simply wanted to prove herself as perceptive enough to be of value. "He was going to have us executed in the dirt," Emori said to Murphy, and then to the man in the throne, "And then you saw my hand." Emori tried and failed to keep the snarl from her face.

"You're smart. May I ask your name?" came the reply.

There was little use in hiding their identities given that the pair of them were simply thieving nobodies. "I'm Emori. This is Murphy," Emori made the introductions.

"Strange name for a strange boy," the man on the throne observed.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly from around here," Murphy drawled out, "Now do we get to know who you are, or is this to be an unfair exchange of pleasantries?"

The man chuckled darkly at Murphy's dryness. The sound settled Emori somewhat. She could work with a sense of humor.

"Not at all," he said, "My name is Heda Kaigo. I am the leader of this settlement, out beyond the western border of Lexa's Kongeda. Officially, you two have managed to stumble into clanless territory. But we here prefer the name 'Mission'. I bid you welcome," Kaigo introduced himself and at last shed some light on their current location.

Emori nodded in understanding, "We did stray too far west, out of Azgeda," she said to Murphy, "The clanless grounders near the coast tend to go north, to the Dead Zone. Everyone else heads west. And it looks like someone's finally starting to rally the lost causes together," Emori took a punt.

"Right again, Emori. For years, those cast out from their clans have existed together but alone, eeking out the best living they can in the harsh landscape, right on the fringes of the Central Wastes. As far as I know, I am the first person to try and bring order to the territory, to establish a permanent and governed settlement. Mission is a growing project," Kaigo explained, and there was barely masked pride in his voice. A dangerous sound.

"A project to what ends?" Emori asked, sounding innocent enough.

Kaigo narrowed his eyes and offered her a clever smile, "You can't expect me to reveal all my motivations on the first meeting," he replied, "for now, all you need to know is that I am a leader trying to do right by the people that have gathered around me, and underneath that, I am a father, trying to do right by my son. I chose to bring him out here as a baby, rather than leave him to fate. I will do everything necessary to make his life on the fringes of society as good as possible. Surely you can understand that?"

Emori supposed she could, but there was something that wasn't sitting quite right with her. Something about Kaigo's authority and how and why he had gained his power made her prickle. Emori was not one to keep her concerns to herself, "With all due respect, why did you elect yourself to that throne, and not your son?" she inquired as diplomatically as she could. She caught the anger in Kaigo's eyes.

"He is young," Kaigo said in response, his voice terse. "And- and he is here now!" Kaigo gestured behind Murphy and Emori to notify them of the arrival of his son.

Emori span and came face to face with a boy of about fourteen, with a striking resemblance to his father. He had limb deficiency of the right arm, and so he offered out his left and Emori grasped his forearm a moment in greeting.

"Hello," the boy said, "I'm Olli."

"Emori," Emori offered back.

Murphy introduced himself with the customary gesture too and then Olli made his way to his father's side.

Emori waited expectantly to find out what was to be done with them, now that she and Murphy had been deemed friendly.

"I think you two should stick around a while," Kaigo offered, as if reading Emori's thoughts, "Olli will show you to the guest house. I'm sure you'll find it much more comfortable than a tent."

"What makes you think we want to stay?" Murphy asked, "Maybe we have our own homes to get back to."

"I don't think so," Kaigo observed cleverly, "And I can tell that you are smart. Both of you. Smart minds do not resist intrigue well. Stay, please. Mission is open to you."

The name of the settlement alerted Emori again, something about it seemed like a deliberate choice. This wasn't just the first settlement out in the clanless territory. It was the start of something more, she was certain of it. And she was equally certain that Mission flourishing under Kaigo's guidance wasn't something to be excited about. More like wary of. It was a tough call whether to stay or not.

"Can we see the room first, then make our decision?" Emori asked brazenly. It got her another laugh.

"As you wish, Emori," he agreed, and then, "Before I let Olli show you the way, may I ask you both one more thing?"

Emori shrugged and gave a nod.

"I'm curious to know where you're from. There aren't many folks around here that haven't passed through Mission, even if they haven't yet decided to make it their home," Kaigo inquired.

"I'm from the Dead Zone. Parents were Delfikru," Emori answered. She had a feeling that it wasn't her origin that Kaigo cared about.

Murphy must have thought the same, for he took some time before responding quietly, "Skaikru," he muttered, "Well not really, they're jackasses. But technically," he covered himself hurriedly and Emori was pleased to observe Murphy's quick wits.

Kaigo stared them down. "The thirteenth clan," Kaigo said, or rather spat, for he made no attempt to hide his disdain, "I hear that Skaikru are flourishing these days, on lands gifted to them by Commander Lexa."

Emori glanced over to Murphy, silently willed him not to answer back to Kaigo. To not go stoking the apparent rage that Kaigo held towards the Kongeda. It was a firecracker rage, the sort that made the air static with tension. Emori didn't like it one bit. Luckily, Murphy must have heard her silent pleas, for he said nothing else.

Kaigo dropped the matter and clapped his hands together, the smack echoed off the stone walls. "I have kept you both too long, you must be exhausted after your trip. Let me apologise once more for that," Kaigo said brusquely, "Now Olli, take our visitors to the guest room, and be back quickly. It's time for your lessons."

"Sha, Nontu," Olli said and he paid his father a brief glance before moving forwards, beckoning Emori and Murphy to follow him with his left hand. "Follow me."

Emori fell into step behind the boy with a frown upon her face. She had seen the darkness in Olli's eyes as he had spoken to his father. It seemed that she was not the only one wary of Kaigo's motivations. Emori almost groaned as she was led out of the longhouse. Stumbling into a questionably motivated and newly organised clanless settlement was one type of bad luck for someone who preferred to slip through society's cracks. Stumbling into a family drama on top of that was, frankly, one of the worst outcomes of their kidnap Emori could imagine.

* * *

The sight of Arkadia's gates creaking open to let the rover pass was more of a relief than Raven had expected it to be. After the emotional goodbyes shared in Polis after the meal, perhaps the longest meal Raven had ever had, Abby had been somewhat tense company on the drive back. They'd made good time back to the Skaikru settlement in almost total silence; Raven hadn't even dared to put some music on. Not that she blamed Abby for feeling distraught, it was an understandable response to finding out your only child was about to embark upon a dangerous trip all the way across the ocean, with no means of keeping in contact with anyone back home for the duration. Still, the atmosphere in the rover was a tad stifling, and so Raven was pumping the gas just as soon as there was enough space to squeeze the vehicle through the still moving gates.

Raven guided the rover through the settlement exterior ever so carefully, now that the marked road was surrounded on all sides by various out buildings. And people. Word must have traveled as fast as it normally did in Arkadia, for it seemed the whole camp was pouring out of the buildings, or abandoning whatever they were doing outside, to gather at the side of the road and watch the rover's progress into the hangar. Raven parked the rover next to it's twin and gave a couple of celebratory revs to mark their safe return.

"Home again, home again," Raven sang as she turned off the ignition.

Abby turned to her and offered a pitifully weak smile but little else. Raven shrugged apologetically, unsure if she should say anything or not. She decided it would be better to.

"Hey, if you need to talk, you know I'm here, right?" Raven promised quietly. It didn't seem like much, but it was all Raven could think to offer.

Abby's eyes creased in gratitude. "I do, thank you," she whispered back. "Now come on, it looks like there's a few people waiting to have you back."

Sure enough, there was a gaggle of figures standing around the front of the rover and by the doors, waiting for Abby and Raven to get out. There was even a distinct group for each of them, with the likes of Chancellor Sinclair and Lincoln waiting on Abby's side to get their mitts on Arkadia's Medical Chief. The people on Raven's side were waiting much less patiently, and Raven grinned as she glanced out of the driver's side window to see Monty shooting finger guns at her. Then, the view of him was obscured by Harper, who smacked both of her hands onto the window and then proceeded to press her nose against the glass.

Raven chortled and shook her head as she waved Harper away so that she could get the door open, and then she'd barely hopped out of the rover when Harper barreled into her and secured Raven in a tight welcome back hug.

"You sorted the rover!" Harper exclaimed right in Raven's ear.

Raven grimaced and moved her face away from Harper, "Mouth!" Raven moaned, and then the hug got even tighter again as Monty joined the fray, followed at last by an eye-rolling Octavia. Raven huffed as her ribs were squeezed, "Alright, alright, don't damage the packaging when it's this pretty, I'm happy to see you all too," Raven said off-handedly, though really she was absolutely living for the shared affection. In fact, Raven couldn't remember having ever felt so welcome, had never felt people's joy at seeing her so palpably before. Her friends didn't need to know that, however.

"How was Polis?" Monty asked as the group finally parted, though they stayed huddled in a tight knit circle. Or at least, Raven thought it was Monty who asked that because the questions, "How have you been?" and "What's new with the royals?" also came firing at her simultaneously.

Raven frowned and put a hand up. "One autograph at a time, folks," she spelled out, and then she pointed at Monty and Octavia, "Polis and the royals, drama as usual," she said, and then she turned to Harper, "And I'm great, glad to be back I guess."

"What sort of drama?" Octavia was quick to respond to that.

"The type that the grown-ups will probably tell you all about if we scoot over to Abby's clique. I have way more interesting news to tell you," Raven answered.

The group began to move around the rover at Raven's suggestion, talking the whole way around the hood of the vehicle, and pushing through the rest of the watching crowd.

"Aren't we technically grown-ups? Sort of?" Monty argued.

"Monty, you must never talk like that," Harper replied, and then to Raven, "What's the interesting gossip?"

Raven laughed aloud, just to build a little suspense, "You won't believe who my first passenger was when I finished adjusting the rover. And who also has a soft spot for questionably cheesy synthpop," she said.

"Clarke?" Octavia replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Raven scoffed, "Well that's not gossip is it. Besides, Griffin strikes me as the R&B sort. I'll have to ask her," Raven mused, but then she remembered where she was going and quickly got back on track, "No actually, Clarke wasn't available to go for the first drive. So the other half of the Kongeda's power couple called shotgun."

"Bull," Octavia decided immediately.

"Yeah, sorry. Not buying it," Monty agreed.

Their lack of faith nearly brought Raven to tears, "No really. I had to listen to A-Ha at least six times. I'm still singing it in my head, right now, actually. I think it's stuck there forever," Raven assured. She frowned as she considered that she might just of been beautifully played. Raven wasn't sure she could put it past Lexa not to have plotted the whole thing, the singing and the rest, just because she knew that nobody would ever believe Raven's tale. And she must have known that it was a tale Raven thought worth sharing. Even as she admired Lexa's forward-thinking strategy, Raven vowed silently to find out if she had been played, and if she had, to get her sweet revenge.

By now, the group had made it to Abby's side of the rover and were in the process of weaseling to the front of the gathering there, to where Abby and Sinclair were talking. Raven knew she had to drop her not-so-tall-tales for now and she tried to catch-up with whatever the Chancellor and Doctor were saying.

"- I don't know how long they'll be gone, or if they are heading right into a trap. But it's happened, and so we'll deal with it," Abby finished saying. Obviously Clarke and Lexa's leaving for Europa was the hot topic.

"They'll be fine over there," Raven piped in, "Those two are unstoppable. Politically. Politically unstoppable."

"I hope so," Abby said to her, and then she turned back to Sinclair, "If they do make it back, then they might just be bringing a much bigger world than we ever imagined with them."

Sinclair offered a brief grin to Raven before nodding to Abby. "Then, I hope that they make some alliances over there. New friends are always welcomed, after all," he said.

"We wondered why riders's came to Arkadia, to call back several of the Trikru healers. I assume they've been requested to go on the journey?" Lincoln said now.

Raven nodded, "Yeah, I remember something about that being said. No Skaikru though, on accounts of our low numbers," she added. She guessed it amounted to putting in a good word for Lexa.

"Then I'm grateful to the Commander for that. We're doing well, but that's with everyone we've got working together," Sinclair said, "So, whilst your crowded greeting probably makes this obvious, we are very glad to have you both back."

"And we're glad to be home," Abby said, "When Captain Luna turned up out of the blue on the same day as us, we thought we'd be waiting weeks before we got to see Clarke. And I wasn't leaving without seeing her after a year," Abby disclosed.

Raven was about to speak when Lincoln beat her to the punch, and Raven could see the shock on his face as he spoke.

"Wait, Luna? Luna kom Floukru was in Polis?" he said, and then he shot a serious look at an equally concerned appearing Octavia.

"Yeah," Raven said, "She's the one who brought the invitation from Europa. Damn near ruined our surprise," Raven confirmed. She looked on in confusion as Lincoln immediately ushered Octavia off to a corner of the hangar at hearing the information, and Raven saw as the couple descended into hurried whispers with one another.

"What do you think that's about?" Harper whispered from Raven's side.

Raven shrugged, "No clue," she answered and she shrugged it off for now, content for once to get her answers later. She was getting painfully aware that they couldn't all just mill about in the hangar for the rest of the day. "So, what's on the itinerary, Chancellor?"

Sinclair laughed, "I think I can spare you for the rest of today, Engineering Chief Reyes," he joked, "I would however like Dr Griffin to accompany me."

"Oh? And what if I'd like the day off too?" Abby chimed, though a smile had returned to her face now, likely thanks to the infectious atmosphere of happiness among the gathered people.

"You may take it, if you wish," Sinclair assured, "However, you have arrived just in time for Thelonius's first support group. I thought you might want to attend, to see how he's doing," Sinclair said, though his tone suggested to Raven that what he really wanted was for Abby to help him keep an eye on Jaha.

Raven frowned at the development. At Jaha being in Arkadia. She had quite happily found out during her brief stop-off, before leaving again for Polis, that Jaha now lived permanently outside of the settlement on the farm. She was surprised he'd been welcomed back inside the gates, but then Raven remembered that a year had passed. Deciding to stick to her usual style of giving second chances, Raven made no comment about the news and listened on.

"Thelonius is holding a support group?" Abby repeated back, equally as surprised. She looked pensive as she considered, "I think this is something I have to see for myself."

It was as much an invitation for the gathering to start to disband as anything else, and so Raven watched as people started to shuffle away at last, either to the meeting, or to get back to whatever they had been doing before the rover came through the gates. Raven hung back a while, along with Harper and Monty. Raven smiled at being back with her road-tripping dream team. Lincoln and Octavia had apparently slipped away already, and soon enough, the three of them were the only ones left in the hangar.

"Are either of you going to the meeting?" Raven asked, for she'd happily tag along for support if either of them were, even if the meeting wasn't exactly her thing.

"No," Harper scoffed out immediately, "We're giving you a proper welcome back. Monty and I got one, so it's only fair."

"It sounds to me like drinking is involved. I'm in," Raven agreed happily to whatever was in store for her.

"Damn right," Monty said.

"And I need to ask your help in a little project I've got going," Harper added as she pushed her way into the middle of the trio and slung her arms over Raven and Monty's shoulders, squeezing them both to her, "Don't I Monty?" she said.

Raven sniggered at the face Monty made. "What have I missed?" Raven asked brightly.

Harper wiggled her eyebrows, "Somebody," she said, "has a crush."

"Well, then it's a good job your wingwoman is back, isn't it Monty?" Raven pointed out.

"Hey, no I'm chief wingwoman, by virtue of this being my plan," Harper shot, pretending to be mortally offended, "You can be my deputy. Second mate."

Raven twisted her neck to glare at Harper, "Hey," she warned, "Raven Reyes is second nothing."

"Raven Reyes needs to stop referring to herself in third person," Monty chimed in, "And she also needs to ignore everything Harper is saying."

Monty was protesting far too much, and so Raven had to let up. She let her glare fall away and gave Harper a decisive nod, "Screw it. I'm your deputy."

* * *

By the time Abby had freshened up from the journey home, the support group was already underway as she and Chancellor Sinclair crept into the room. They each padded over to the stack of chairs in the corner, picked one out, and added the seats to the semicircle that had formed in front of Jaha. Abby took her seat and caught Jaha's eye, offered her old friend a warm smile. Jaha returned it quickly, before turning his full attention back to the woman who had been speaking when Abby had entered.

On the way to the meeting, Sinclair had told Abby what she had expected when the Chancellor had first made her aware that the meeting was happening. They were not really here to participate, rather they were present to try and decide whether or not Jaha was being genuine in his desire to help Arkadia in this manner. Abby had to admit that she felt a little uneasy at keeping watch over a man she had known and thought of as a trusted friend for so many years, but that history did not change what Jaha had done. It did nothing to dissuade Abby from thinking that having her eyes and ears peeled for any suspicious motivations on Jaha's part was an absolute necessity.

She was at least glad that the settlement did appear ready to offer Jaha the benefit of the doubt. There were around fifteen people present at the meeting, not counting Abby and Sinclair. It was a decent turn out by Abby's standards and she was happy to see that people were ready to try opening up about their experiences. Abby was thrilled that they even had the opportunity to do something like this, the time to. She gulped hard as a wave of gratitude and pride swept over her for all Arkadia had achieved. And of course, for the part Clarke- and Lexa- had played in those achievements.

Then again, it was an inescapable truth that every single resident of Arkadia had lost someone, or many someones, either during the violent launch of the commandeered exodus ship, or on the journey down to Earth. In a way then, fifteen was a small number of attendants for a support group, when Abby guessed that many more people were still grieving for their losses and could benefit from being here. Maybe the settlement was still more wary of Jaha's presence than first appearances would suggest and Abby's rush of optimism was quickly snatched away.

Abby cleared her mind of all thoughts and attempted to catch up with the current topic of conversation. She recognized the woman speaking as Alice. She had once been a cook in the Go-Sci Station canteen, and now she was head chef overseeing Arkadia's canteen and both the inside and outside bars. On her lap was sat her daughter, Molly. The mother and daughter were practically inseparable. Alice had lost her husband in one of the explosions after the exodus ship launched. Abby felt a strange mixture of emotions as she listened to Alice speak. There was a lot that they had in common and so Abby immediately felt a profound connection to the woman. But that didn't stop the sight of the mother, with her daughter right there with her, from flaring a few undeniable pangs of jealousy in Abby when she had just had to leave Clarke behind. Abby tried her best to shake the feelings off so that she could focus, and perhaps even offer her own advice to another person who had lost their spouse far too soon.

"I think it's getting easier now," Alice was saying to the group, her voice slightly cracked with the difficulty of opening up, "now that there is a sense of hope here. When we first landed on Earth, it felt like we were never going to survive more than a few months. As a mother that is such a difficult thing to accept, when all you want to do is to provide a happy, long life for your child."

Abby narrowed her eyes and nodded sagely in agreement. She glanced over as subtly as she could to Jaha and tried to read his expression. He seemed content to listen, to let the meeting be led by the attendees rather than the chairman.

"I understand," Jaha prompted in a low, soothing voice, "Life in the absence of hope is barely a life at all."

"I think that's why most of us-" Alice said and then her voice fell away.

Abby turned back to Alice with a frown, wondering why she had stopped talking. Then, the obvious answer came to Abby. Though it was wonderful to see people willing to open up about their non-visible wounds like this, the whole group had a rather large elephant in the room with them. Abby knew that there was no ignoring the topic Alice had caught herself before mentioning. It was a huge part of Arkadia's journey, something that the settlement was still recovering from along with everything else. It was also likely to be the easiest way to ascertain Jaha's intentions. Abby swallowed back any second thoughts and spoke up in Alice's stead.

"That's why most of the settlement went into the virtual reality," Abby offered, and Alice gave a sheepish nod that it was what she had meant to say. Abby frowned. "When real life seems like it's destined to end soon, it is human nature to seek an escape from that fate. People are capable of such incredible strength, but when faced with extinction, of course our survival instincts go into overdrive and we tend to forgo logic."

"It seemed like a last chance. The sort you normally only dream of. A way to live, to let my daughter live, away from the pain of the real world, away from the suffering and violent end that was always threatening to come our way," Alice agreed. "How could we not want to start afresh? I felt so guilty in those first months. Guilty for surviving. Guilty for wanting to survive."

"And that is why we are all here today, doing something about these feelings. Doing it properly. The long way round might be more difficult to take, but the outcome is so much better. Each one of you deserves a wonderful life, a real one, here on the ground. I remember us Arkers being no strangers to a little hard graft. Just look how much we've come along this past year, outwardly. The same progress can be made inwardly too. Both journeys are equally important," Jaha replied. He did not try to excuse himself from the blame, nor did he try for sympathy by openly owning his mistakes in front of the group. He simply gave guidance, decent guidance, that Abby more than agreed with.

Abby shared a look with Sinclair and saw that he too was erring on the side of trusting that Jaha truly did want to help, that this wasn't an ego trip, or him looking for salvation. This was Jaha at his best, the good and kind man Abby remembered working with on the Ark. She found herself smiling at Sinclair, and then she looked forwards again.

"Well said, Thelonius," she appraised, compelled to speak again. As medical chief, the well-being of her people was one of her primary concerns and so she thought she might offer more of her own ideas, "I would just like to say as a Doctor, how good it is that these meetings are happening. It's so important that we take care of ourselves up here," she said pointing to her head, "and in here," then to her heart, "just as much as we look after the rest of our bodies. And as someone who has lost her husband, and another person I had grown close to, I'd like to remind everyone of the amazing things we are capable of. We can find a reason to keep going, it doesn't even matter what it is, nor how mundane it might seem to others. You just have to find it. And the people we have lost are still with us in so many ways. I see Marcus in the progress Arkadia has made, and in the allies we have forged in the Kongeda. And I see so much of Jake in my daughter, I'm sure she got all of her best qualities from him," Abby mused, letting her words run away with her a little as it felt good to be able to speak them without any feeling of judgement. The room listened raptly.

Abby felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to Sinclair. He offered her a moving look of support. "You must be so proud of Clarke," he said, inviting Abby to talk through her having to leave Clarke behind if she wished.

Abby actually felt like she didn't need to, though she greatly appreciated being given the opportunity. Just being at the meeting had made her appreciate having her daughter so much more, even when they were so far apart. Even further apart soon enough, if the trip to Europa went as planned. Still, she found herself feeling much better about leaving Clarke behind now. Abby was pleasantly surprised. After coming to the meeting to keep an eye on Jaha, she had written off getting any sort of benefit from it herself.

"I am," Abby said, "And I know that wherever she is, she'll be working to make the world a better place. Like I said, she's just like her father."

Alice let out something close to a laugh, "You know I see a lot of Thomas in Molly, too, even though she's so young," she said, hugging her daughter close as she spoke. Molly hugged her mother back enthusiastically, no doubt thrilled at the affection, for so far the conversation in the meeting had been far too complex for such young ears to understand.

"I love you, mommy," Molly said, loud enough for the room to hear, her youth making it all too easy to share the sentiment in front of so many eyes. An echo of laughs and 'ahhs' sounded in the room.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Alice responded to her daughter, much quieter.

The sight made Abby look forward to getting to see Clarke again, whenever that might be. And for now, Abby knew that she was going to advise Sinclair to allow these meetings to continue. She hoped they would go on for as long as they felt needed. Abby glanced about the gathering until her eyes caught Jaha's. Abby even felt excited to catch up with him once the meeting was done. And after that, all that was left to do was to get back to work and start forging a home out of Arkadia. Abby smiled to herself as a pleasant sort of warmth settled in her bones. They were going to do alright.

* * *

Lexa breezed past the guards at the door into the tower library. She let her eyes roam over the space as she moved, ever-appreciative of the wonderful sight. The library was vast, taking up the space of five individual rooms that had been knocked through into one, and almost every square foot of floor was taken up by a bookcase, some of them surviving relics from the old world, others cobbled together out of scrap wood and metal over the years. They went on for rows and rows on each side of the room. And most every shelf on every bookcase was overfull with books. It was a passion project of Lexa's to collect as many as possible, and traders throughout the Kongeda knew to keep their eyes open for any surviving tomes scattered about the lands. Bringing them to Polis library would always secure the trader a bed to sleep in and a square meal, and the gratitude of Heda besides.

The only sizable piece of floor that wasn't covered in shelving was directly in front of the entrance to the room, and here a large table with as many chairs as would fit around it was placed, so that one may sit and read by the light pouring in from the windows. It was also the place where Aden conducted many of his non-physical lessons with the novitiates, and when they found themselves off-duty, it was often where Lexa and Aden met to update one another on the goings on of the day. Now, as Lexa reached the table, she found Aden already there and waiting for her, though the young man was not alerted to her arrival for his nose was buried in a book.

Lexa smirked and slowed her pace, stepping over the tile floor without a sound. She had rounded the table and gotten to Aden's left side undetected, was reaching out to grab his shoulder. At the last moment, Aden's head snapped up and his own hand caught Lexa's and halted its progress towards him.

"I knew you were there," Aden claimed with confidence, swatting Lexa's hand away.

Lexa raised an eyebrow, "Sure, kid," she answered affectionately, and then she flexed her jaw as she realized the discrepancy between calling Aden a 'kid' and what she was about to ask of him. She'd sent for him to meet her in their favorite room for a reason, an unpleasant one. Lexa took a seat next to Aden and set her eyes upon the young man, still slightly perturbed that his head was exactly level with hers now, if not just a little higher already. "You know why I've asked to meet you here?" Lexa prompted quietly.

Aden shrugged, "Because you're handing over care of the Kongeda to me, and insist on being soft about it," he answered teasingly, though Lexa could detect Aden's nervousness behind the teenage bravado.

Lexa gave him a nod and considered a moment. All other preparations for Lexa and Clarke's departure from Polis with Luna were seen to, barring the packing. Seeing Aden had been the last big thing on Lexa's itinerary. Now she was sat with him, the feelings of guilt that Lexa had been holding at bay since she had announced at the meeting that Aden would be taking the throne in her absence, were no longer content to be ignored.

"I didn't want the formal handover I made in the meeting to be it, Aden," Lexa said, "I wanted to make sure that you feel ready for the responsibility," she paused then and swallowed hard before continuing, "and to apologize for having to put this weight upon your shoulders when I have previously vowed to you that it need never happen." It was the second uncharacteristic apology Lexa had had to make in a short amount of time and, though she had been genuine in both instances, still it was a difficult thing for her to do.

"I'm ready, Commander," Aden assured, "And we both know that it has to be me." Aden's voice cracked as he spoke, and Lexa wasn't certain if it was simply because his voice was in the process of breaking, or because of the reminder that Aden was the only surviving nightblood.

Lexa did reach out and put her hand on Aden's shoulder then, not to startle him, but to offer support with a firm, grounding squeeze. "I have every confidence in your abilities, Aden," she said, and then, "I'm not naive enough to make assurances to you that everything will be absolutely fine in my absence. I will not tempt fate like that. But know that I have absolute faith in you, and I trust you to deal with anything that may occur whilst I'm gone."

"I suppose I should prepare for the worst. At least then I can be pleasantly surprised," Aden suggested.

Lexa had to grin, "You sound like another blonde I know, strik bro."

"What can I say?" Aden laughed out, "Clarke is full of wisdom."

Lexa shook her head. If Aden had been sharp before, this last year had only improved his wit tenfold. He was growing up fast. Too fast really, though knowing that he no longer had the fate of the conclave hanging over his young life tempered that quite a lot.

"Do you mean to suggest that I am not 'full of wisdom'?" Lexa asked, feigning contempt.

Aden didn't respond, he merely offered her a cryptic look, followed by another laugh. Lexa echoed the sound before falling serious once more.

"I suppose on that note, I must warn you against trying to change any decades old traditions in my absence," Lexa urged, though her lips turned up as she spoke.

Aden hissed theatrically, "Can't promise anything," he responded with unrestrained cheek, "I did learn from the best, after all."

"No, don't go trying to make up for insulting me now, I won't fall for it," Lexa protested.

Aden very nearly rolled his eyes at Lexa, but caught himself before fully committing. He needn't have bothered stopping himself, but there were some lines the young teacher would never cross with his Commander. Lexa appreciated the maturity and diligence under the boy's playfulness, even as the more daring side of Aden's personality had grown along with his confidence. Though saying goodbye to Aden would be difficult, for Lexa thought of him as no less than her little brother, she was at least more settled with leaving the Kongeda in his care in light of this private meeting.

"I'm going to say the same to you, you know," Aden filled the silence. Lexa frowned, unsure what Aden meant and so he explained himself further, "Stay out of trouble over there," he said, as sternly as he could manage with his cracking voice.

"Of course I will," Lexa replied immediately, "I'll have Clarke with me. And she's 'full of wisdom'."

Lexa held back a snort as a frown passed over Aden's face at Lexa verbally out maneuvering him. He might be able to get in more than a few hits, most of them skilled rather than lucky, against her when they sparred together, but there were still plenty of ways that Aden had not surpassed his Commander yet.

"I may have to retract my previous statement about her. She's bound to get you both into trouble," Aden admitted with a frown.

Lexa shrugged, "I knew you'd come down on the right side eventually," she said.

"Oh, I don't pick sides," Aden argued, eyes wide.

Lexa grinned until the moment had passed. She realized then that she had already dawdled a little too long. Wisdom aside, Lexa didn't want to leave Clarke to pack their things alone. Not if Lexa wanted perfectly folded clothes in her bag. Lexa let out a low sigh.

"You're going to do just fine, Aden," Lexa reiterated, bringing the topic back to the handover of power.

Aden nodded. "I'll have Indra with me," he said.

That fact was indeed a huge comfort. Lexa had initially considered leaving Indra in charge, but had reluctantly thought better of it. Though Lexa trusted the General and her dear friend with her life, the fact remained that Indra was Luna's old mentor. When the Kongeda was already on alert about Luna's reappearance, leaving the woman who had trained Luna on the throne, whilst the Commander left with Luna would do nothing to dispel suspicions that something was amiss. At least, Lexa knew that Indra would be a calming and guiding presence for Aden should he need her advice or assistance.

"Perhaps she could take over your lessons until I'm back," Lexa suggested.

"I'm sure she'll look forward to that," Aden said with a smile, and then, as if on cue, the library was filled with the rambunctious laughter of children.

Novitiates Marion and Kalvan appeared across the table from Lexa and Aden. The children quickly checked their posture and both offered a respectful bow to Lexa. She returned the gesture with her own, brief nod of greeting.

"Novitiates. How can we help?" Lexa asked with a smile.

There was a pause as the children shared a look, and then Marion responded, "We've come to say goodbye, Commander. And to wish you luck on your travels."

"We'll miss you," Kalvan offered after, and then the young boy looked sheepish about his words.

Lexa's smile widened to a grin, "And I'll miss you both, too," she said and Lexa truly would. Though the new novitiates had been in Polis only a few months, Lexa hoped that they already felt at home here. She knew that she had quickly formed an attachment to them both, and she was as proud of the progress they had made in their lessons as she had ever been of the nightbloods. "Thank you for making the effort to see me, that was considerate of you both. I don't think I have to warn you two to behave, but I'm going to anyway. And I hope you'll do whatever you can to help your teacher. Aden is taking on a big responsibility whilst I'm gone. Make sure he's alright. Don't let him forget to have fun."

Marion giggled brightly at that. "We won't," she assured. Marion was the older novitiate and much more outgoing. Kalvan was quieter and more introspective, though Lexa knew they both challenged their teacher in their own ways. Marion ran Aden ragged. Kalvan preferred to challenge his teacher's mind with his inquisitiveness. There was a lot about them that reminded Lexa of how she and Luna had been as children. Though these novitiates were not being brought up to one day face each other in a fight to the death. Lexa hoped that these novitiates may live long enough to form a lasting friendship, rather than be parted and destined to drift apart as it seemed Lexa had with Luna. Lexa felt less ready to leave again.

"Well, we shouldn't keep the Commander any longer," Aden chimed in, giving Lexa the push she needed. He was always perceptive, "And I think there's time for one more lesson before I hand your teaching over to General Indra."

"The General will be teaching us?" Kalvan reacted, his mouth growing wide with awe.

"Indra will. And she expects the best, so no slacking," Lexa said.

"Yes, Commander," the novitiates replied in unison.

Satisfied that she'd said everything she needed to, Lexa rose from her seat, Aden following suit immediately. Correct protocol was usually necessary in front of the children, to set a good example. For now however, Lexa didn't want her goodbyes to Aden and the novitiates to be quite so rigid. Lexa as good as skipped around the table, giving Marion a devilish smile before turning her back to the novitiate.

"Hop on," Lexa said and without needing any further prompt, Marion hopped onto Lexa's back. Lexa secured her hold on the girl and turned to Aden, "Race you to the elevator? It'll be our last for a while."

Aden narrowed his eyes, staring down his competition the entire time as he rounded the table and helped Kalvan onto his back. By now, both of the kids were hanging on tightly and in fits of laughter, and so Lexa and Aden had to count themselves down before taking off at full pelt, out of the library and down the twisting corridor towards the elevator. Lexa didn't even have to let Aden win races anymore, his stride was so long, and he made it with Kalvan just before Lexa and Marion.

Lexa let out a sigh of defeat and dropped Marion back to the floor. "We'll have them next time," she said unconvincingly. Thankfully, both of the novitiates were still laughing and nobody seemed to care that much about winners and losers.

The group waited for the elevator to make it's way up to their level. When it was drawing close, the giggles quieted at last and Aden said, "You should go on ahead, Commander. We'll take the stairway. It's been some time since the novitiates' last agility test."

Neither Marion nor Kalvan attempted to hide their groans. Lexa offered them both a shrug, "You'd better do as you're told. Unless you'd rather come with me and learn how to correctly pack all necessary equipment for a trip?"

"Agility test," Marion chose, Kalvan quickly echoing her decision.

Lexa hummed in amusement and stepped onto the elevator as it passed the floor. She had to speak quickly before Aden and the novitiates disappeared from view, "May we meet again," Lexa said and all three of them shouted the sentiment back as Lexa was carried upwards on the lift. Lexa felt a pang in her heart at the farewell, but she quickly steeled herself and jutted out her chin in defiance against the emotions, though there was nobody present to appreciate her masquerade.

The departure from the capital was inching closer and Lexa tried to muster her excitement, for she was infinitely curious to find out what the people across the ocean were like, before she reached her bedroom. Everything was well in motion. The Kongeda was now officially in Aden's hands. Lexa had only one more thing to do before the departure from Polis at sundown; rescue her clothes from being creased beyond wearability by Clarke's non-existent packing skills. Lexa wasn't sure who out of herself and Aden had drawn the short straw.

* * *

After a year of sleeping in a tent, or the back of the rover when it was their turn, the bed in Kaigo's guesthouse might as well have been made out of clouds. It felt almost too soft as Murphy flopped onto the mattress face first, before rolling the settle onto his back. He experimentally picked his hips up off the squishy surface and then let them drop down again, and he landed back flush with the mattress with a satisfying and comfortable bounce.

"Hey, perhaps we should stay," Murphy said with a cocked eyebrow, "good rebound," he noted suggestively.

Emori, who was in the process of inspecting every square inch of the room, turned towards the bed and shook her head at Murphy. "We've managed to land ourselves in the middle of a quite probably militant gathering of clanless, and you want to stick around for the bed?"

Murphy gave a shrug, though he knew Emori had a point. Appearances wise, there didn't seem to be much to worry about. Mission was a growing settlement, that was clear. On the way to the guesthouse, Murphy had spied only a few other completed structures. There were other buildings in various stages of construction, dotted about on the reddish brown landscape and spiraling out from Kaigo's longhouse. But mostly, it seemed the residents of Mission still lived in more familiar tents. Murphy supposed that there was plenty that could be said about the fact that the guesthouse had been completed before the houses for permanent settlers, but then, there was always going to be nonsense like that wherever some sort of governing body existed. Facts were facts. Besides, the guesthouse was extremely cosy inside, and much to Murphy and Emori's relief, they definitely weren't here as prisoners rather than guests, for the front door to the house hadn't been locked until they'd done it themselves from the inside. Murphy felt quite justified in wanting to milk the place for it's comforts, even whilst his brain was screaming at him not to be so complacent.

"So you think Kaigo's bad news?" Murphy prompted.

He heard Emori sigh and then the bed dipped as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Murphy felt his ears grow warm as Emori reached over to him and swept his slightly too long hair out of his eyes.

"Did you see the way Olli looked at him?" Emori answered with her own question.

Murphy snorted, "Yeah, believe me I know a kid who feels invisible to their own parent when I see one," he muttered. The disappointed look that Olli had flashed his father had been far too familiar.

"Right. So, forgive me for not wanting to get stuck in the middle of a mess like that," Emori said. "It isn't our style," she argued.

Murphy supposed she was right about that. They had opted not to return to Arkadia with the others, had chosen instead to stay out in the wilderness and forge their own path as the best of the grifters, specifically because neither felt like the settled life was for them. So sticking around in Mission did really fly in the face of those feelings.

"Hell no," Murphy agreed, but then he grimaced, "But I think we are both getting the sense that there's more than just a family palava brewing here, aren't we?"

Emori nodded. She had a pained look upon her face that suggested she was in the middle of quite the internal conflict. Whatever she was thinking, it had rendered her strangely quiet and so Murphy was left to follow his instincts. It was a good thing that he felt he knew Emori completely by now, even whilst the fact of knowing another person like that was still a new, and frankly terrifying thing for him.

"The guy clearly hates the Kongeda. And not without cause. But what the hell is he going to do? Gather up everyone and rile them into a fight against the coalition? It would be a slaughter," he thought aloud, hoping to encourage Emori to do the same.

"It's muddier than that. I'd like to know exactly why Kaigo has built this place and given himself his title. The way he spoke about us trespassing made it sound like he already thinks of himself as the leader of the whole territory, not just this dive. I don't like it at all. He's dangerous, no doubt about it. We should be running out that door right now," Emori asserted, though doubt crept into her voice towards the end.

"But?" Murphy guessed, "Definitely sensing a but."

"But how can we run from this? You see a man who is likely a threat to the safety of your friends. And don't try to argue that you don't care that much, I can see right through that," Emori said before Murphy could even think to protest, "And I see someone who is pretending that an egotistical power trip is actually a desire to help his son. When you can bet that Kaigo hasn't once thought to listen to what his son actually wants from him." By now Emori's voice was nearly a shout and she sprang up off the bed to pace about the room.

Murphy could only prop himself up on his elbows and watch, knowing that only his ears and not his voice were needed right then.

"So if some wise ass wants to build himself a throne and declare himself Heda of the clanless, without even stopping to consider that maybe whatever he has planned will only turn around on him and make things worse for the very people he claims he wants to protect, how can I walk away?" Emori ceased her pacing and rounded to face Murphy with her hands on her hips, the absolute picture of exasperated. Murphy had to allow himself to admit that she wore the look well.

"You can't," he gave the only answer he could, and the answer neither of them really wanted to hear, "We can't."

Murphy had no doubt that they were jumping right into a blazing fire that was set to explode on them at any moment. But he knew that Emori had every reason to be invested, and there was not a chance in hell that he was leaving without her. And she was right. Murphy was concerned about what danger a man like Kaigo could pose to the lands that his friends called home. Well, just a little concerned.

Emori relented at last and this time when she moved back to the bed, she lay down properly beside Murphy. He immediately moved closer and wrapped his arms about Emori's frame, offering whatever comfort he could.

"This is heaven," Emori admitted, sounding entirely annoyed that Murphy's assessment of the bed's comfort had been accurate.

Murphy grinned. "Maybe this is very us, then," he said. "A little bed-shaped heaven right in the middle of a catastrophe waiting to happen."

Emori scoffed at him, rolling to face him and grabbing at his cheeks, "Shut up, softie," she teased, "Or tell me more about this rebound."

* * *

Clarke let out a morose sigh as she stared out over the capital from the balcony in the bedroom. The last slithers of the sun were dipping below the tree line and far below, Clarke could make out indistinct orange globes of light as the streetlamps were lit for the night. It was past time for Clarke and Lexa to make their way down to the stables and start their journey to Europa. They intended to ride all night to reach Luna's ship, so that they could make way in the light of tomorrow. The two of them had been on track to meet Luna on time, but their playful quibbles about their conflicting packing styles had, well, led elsewhere.

Now, as Clarke surveyed the home she had made on the ground, the haven that she was about to leave behind for who knew how long, the pleasant distraction had lost it's afterglow. Her mind swam with every worry about going, every doubt about Luna's intentions, and with the bitterness of the goodbye meal with her mother and Raven yesterday evening. Though they were travelling reasonably light, for Luna had assured them that other provisions would be provided, Clarke felt as though she was about to travel to Europa with the weight of the world upon her shoulders. It was a familiar feeling by now, but no easier to shrug off, even when underneath all that weight, Clarke had to admit that there was a small glimmer of nervous excitement at venturing to a new land. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself that there was.

"Clarke?" Lexa's soft voice shook Clarke from her thoughts, quiet enough to capture Clarke's attention without startling her. Clarke turned to find Lexa joining her on the balcony. Lexa's face was turned downwards and her hands were busy fiddling with her sash. The pout of Lexa's lips suggested that she wasn't having much joy.

"Let me," Clarke said, "I am partly responsible for you having to put it on all over again."

"Mostly responsible," Lexa shot back instantly, and she moved within reach.

Clarke waited for Lexa to obediently move her hands out of the way, so that Clarke could arrange the red material until it was draping just right.

"And yet you cannot fold a shirt," Lexa teased as she inspected Clarke's handiwork with a satisfied smirk.

"An artist's hands work in mysterious ways," Clarke argued, and then she realized what she had said when Lexa's eyebrows shot up and the Commander drew her lips into her mouth, clearly holding back a snigger. Clarke rolled her eyes and turned away from Lexa, facing the view of Polis once more. "We're going to be late," Clarke murmured, as if she wasn't keen to delay their leaving for as long as possible.

"Excuse me Ambassador, but the Commander is never late," Lexa responded, mock terseness in her voice.

"No, but I can be. What an awful impression I must be making," Clarke drawled.

Lexa harrumphed at that, "Then Luna has certainly become a poor judge of character," she said, "And she can wait. We take as long as we take."

Though Clarke felt herself blush at Lexa's compliment, for it was a natural reaction that Clarke had long since given up fighting against, the edge of bitterness in Lexa's voice did not go unnoticed. It made Clarke frown, her forehead wrinkling. It suggested that for all her excitement to see Europa, Lexa was much more downcast now about her prospects of making friends with Luna again. Whilst she didn't exactly savor the prospect of being stuck on the ship with Luna herself, Clarke was secretly hoping that the more claustrophobic setting would force Lexa and Luna to resolve their differences one way or another, preferably in a way that resulted in them being amicable at the least.

"It feels like we're turning our backs on everything we've achieved," Lexa spoke again when Clarke did not. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"It's out of necessity," Clarke said what they both knew, like hearing it again might help. "But yes. Weirdly enough, I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to leave if one of us was staying. At least then, the other would have their home to come back to," Clarke mused.

At her words, Lexa closed the distance between them until their arms brushed together, and then Lexa looped her arm around Clarke's shoulders and squeezed possessively. Clarke managed a smile at the deceptive strength in Lexa's skinny arms, and she let her head drop onto Lexa's shoulder with a sigh.

"I'm really hoping that my home won't leave me on a ship with Luna alone," Lexa muttered.

Clarke sighed, "No way," she said, "Now come on, we should get a grip-"

"Why, is this not tight enough?" Lexa laughed out without letting Clarke finish and Clarke felt herself being enveloped into a bear hug before she could protest. She could only admit defeat and hold Lexa back as tightly as possible without constricting ribs.

"You're ridiculous, babe," Clarke said into Lexa's neck, "I mean we really should be more excited about getting to visit a new society. That's pretty huge," and then, smiling against warm skin, "I know you're happy to have a new potentially world-changing project on your hands."

"Just a little, niron," Lexa admitted, and she pulled out of the hug so that Clarke caught her smirk, "I wonder where I get my inspiration for these things from?"

Clarke shook her head, though she appreciated that Lexa's humor was shining through right now to make their leaving home a little easier to swallow. "I honestly don't know," Clarke said, spinning on her heel and making her way back inside before the newfound urge to get going left her again. She heard Lexa follow her indoors and Clarke was about to suggest that they grab their bags and go when Lexa burst into laughter behind her.

"What is it now, Lex?" Clarke groaned, turning to face Lexa again, though she kept her hand poised over her burlap duffel bag, ready to snatch it up off the bed.

"I appreciate your eagerness to get underway, Clarke, truly," Lexa spoke evenly. Her tone only made Clarke suspicious, and with good reason, "However," Lexa continued, "might I suggest you allow me to brush your hair through before we go? I remember Luna being quite the tease."

"How bad?" Clarke asked through gritted teeth.

"Your hair? Like you've been chased through the woods. Luna's teasing? On par with Raven, though without the sisterly bond between you, I doubt you'll be as willing to laugh it off," Lexa observed.

Clarke tutted. "Get the brush."

* * *

Octavia bustled into the tent she called home and frowned when she found Lincoln haphazardly stuffing clothes and other necessities into a pack he'd placed on the bed. She'd been expecting this departure after Lincoln's reaction to hearing about Luna's reappearance. Sure enough, Lincoln had made the decision quickly, in hushed whispers in a corner of the hangar whilst everyone else had been pestering Abby and Raven. Octavia had made no move to stop him, had even intended to help him pack until she'd been delayed by one of the stall owners requiring a translation. Though her willingness to let him journey to Polis would not make actually watching him leave any easier.

Octavia approached Lincoln's side, put a hand on his forearm to encourage him to slow down and think a little.

"If I leave right away, I might catch them before they leave Polis," Lincoln stated, slowing his frenetic packing only a little at Octavia's touch.

"And if you miss them?" she asked.

Lincoln finally stopped and he looked down at Octavia and gave a shrug, "Then I'll be able to find out exactly what's going on from whoever has been left behind. Aden, I assume. I'll likely be told more information thanks to my history with Luna, and at least that way Arkadia will be a little wiser. Abby might appreciate a few more answers," he replied.

Octavia grinned at Lincoln's good heart, at that ever present desire to choose a course of action that would help others just as much, if not more than they helped himself. She stroked her fingers over his arm, "You don't need to do that you know," she assured, "You don't need to justify this as something you're doing for the good of our people. Not everything is. We're allowed to have personal investments."

Lincoln smirked, "Am I so obvious?"

"Almost as bad as Clarke was, back when she kept using us as her excuse for wanting to stay in Polis," Octavia said.

Lincoln pretended to wince, "Ouch."

"You and Luna must have been close?" Octavia posed the guess as a question.

Lincoln nodded, "We were. Not in that way, if you were worried," he added quickly.

Octavia huffed in dismissal, "I'm not," she said genuinely. Octavia trusted Lincoln with more than just her life. She doubted Lincoln had an unfaithful bone in his body.

Lincoln turned to face her fully, cupped her cheeks and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead that made Octavia sigh. Clearly he was happy to hear that she had faith in him.

"I helped her to get to the coast when she escaped the conclave," Lincoln let out in explanation anyway. "I was off on one of my sojourns in the woods when I happened across her camp. I think she would have killed me on sight if she wasn't in such a bad way from the trials and her escape. I patched her up as best I could to gain her trust, and agreed to accompany her to the coast. We quickly became good friends." Lincoln paused and fastened up his pack, the bag was stuffed full. With that done, he grabbed hold of a strap and slung the pack onto his back.

"You were going to take us to her territory. The first time we tried to run," Octavia remembered.

"Yes. I stayed with her by the coast for some time. We shared similar ideals. Similar doubts about the ways of our people. I was there to see the birth of Floukru when those who believed Luna to be a sign of changing times gathered around her. And she made it clear that I would always have a place in Floukru, should I want to take it."

"Why didn't you? It sounds like a peaceful clan like them would have been perfect for you," Octavia mused.

Lincoln looked thoughtful. "I guess I still believed that I had a chance of changing things from within. I didn't want to just turn my back on my clan and help start a new one. And I could tell that that was going to be what eventually tore Luna and I apart. I went back to TonDC and was welcomed back on the promise that I'd not be gone for so long again. And I guess that the new village chief being the woman who trained Luna helped my cause. Indra was happy to learn as much as I could tell her of Luna's fate. As for Captain Luna, as she was known by then, I assume she must have sailed away not long after I left Floukru. It would be nice to catch her and get more answers. To be able to fill in the gaps."

Octavia felt like Lincoln's tale needed no comment, though she was glad he had shared it. And she felt proud of the choices he had made, for they only seemed to reconfirm everything she adored about him. Octavia found herself unable to keep from stepping forward into Lincoln's arms. He caught her enthusiastically and lifted her feet off the floor in a tight hug. Octavia felt her whole body ache with love for him, and with pain for having to let him go.

"You could always come with me," he whispered into her hair, reading her like a book.

Octavia tried for a laugh. "You know if we both go, we won't come back."

Lincoln placed her gently back on her own too feet, though he kept his strong arms looped about her waist. He looked surprised at Octavia's words.

"I want to put some effort into trying to find my place here before I run," Octavia offered, "Like you. I want to do good here, not just take off. Even when I say that's exactly what we should do." Octavia hoped she was making sense to him when she barely made sense to herself.

"I understand," Lincoln said, "and I'll admit that whilst leaving you is difficult, getting to come back to you, getting to come home to you, is something I could get used to."

Octavia felt tears forming at that sentiment and she fought them back, inhaling deeply through her nose. "Take Helios. You'll be there and back quicker," she suggested.

"Alright, if you're sure you can manage without your means of a quick escape," Lincoln replied with a wry smile.

Octavia shot him a dark glare. "I'll be fine. If I get desperate I'll just get Raven to teach me how to drive."

"Have a drink for me at her welcome back tonight, gorgeous?" Lincoln requested. It had come time for him to go.

Octavia nodded that she would, finding words difficult to form. Lincoln seemed to understand her predicament for he leaned forward and kissed her fully on the mouth, a warm and lingering goodbye for now kiss that neither of them wanted to end. When they parted at last, Octavia slung her arms around Lincoln's neck to keep him close just a while longer.

"Go on," she urged in total anachronism to her actions, "I hope you catch them, or if you don't, I hope your journey is worthwhile in other ways," Octavia said.

She did wonder if Lincoln's journey to Polis after being in Arkadia so long might help him to reconnect with his roots. Not that she doubted he was content here, but there was so much of Lincoln that would always be Trikru. Would always be grounder. She wouldn't want him to ever lose touch with that even if they did always call Skaikru territory home.

"Thank you," Lincoln answered, "I hope you have luck finding your true place here." He kissed her again and then he stepped out of Octavia's embrace. "Ai hod yu in, Octavia."

"Ai hod yu in seintaim," she replied with all the love she could muster in her voice.

With that, Lincoln turned, adjusted his hold on his pack and left Octavia standing alone in their tent. Though it was only a temporary separation, and one Octavia supported even more for learning of Lincoln's history with Luna, Octavia felt the parting deep in her gut and her heart.

The tears she had been fighting off came with abandon now that she was alone and she indulged them a few minutes before catching herself. Octavia stood straighter, willed the tears to stop falling, using her otherwise dormant warrior's training to conjure up the strength to let things be as they were. Lincoln would be home again soon. And she intended to have made progress in her hunt for her niche in the settlement, so that Lincoln would have some good news to return to. Octavia smiled at that, as she remembered that her soul searching would in fact have to wait until the morning. Noon even. She did have another welcome back gathering to attend around the campfire tonight, and she had promised to drink for both herself and Lincoln.

* * *

Once Clarke's wayward hair had been tamed by Lexa's handiwork with a brush, there had been nothing else to delay them. The couple had somewhat bitterly grabbed their packs from the bed and turned their backs on their room with little else said between them. Even the elevator ride down to the ground floor was tense and quiet, for Lexa could sense that whilst she retained some excitement about the trip, Clarke on the other hand was still erring towards dread, or at least a hefty dose of nervousness. Clarke's reluctance to leave Polis stifled the air as the elevator made it's way down past the last few floors. Lexa didn't want to suggest that Clarke should try to cheer up, Clarke had tried that herself back in their room, and if her own attempt to fix it hadn't worked, Lexa doubted she'd fare any better. Although there was one thing left that she could try to lift Clarke's spirits.

Lexa almost tentatively reached out and slipped her hand into Clarke's. She waited, simply enjoying the feeling of Clarke's cool skin against hers, until she felt Clarke squeeze the offered hand appreciatively. Only then did Lexa turn her head towards Clarke, and she looked at her with a serious, considerate expression.

"You can stay, Clarke. If you would prefer to, I will understand," Lexa offered in a croaked whisper, remembering what Clarke had said about it perhaps being easier for one to go, knowing that they'd have the other to come back to.

Clarke gazed back at her with an expression somewhere between gratitude and exasperation. It was a strange mixture. "Not a chance," Clarke stated, "I know I've done a terrible job at trying to psyche myself up to this, and I appreciate that you haven't tried to change my feelings about it. But I'm going with you, Lex. I'm going to be right beside you no matter what we are walking into."

Lexa felt her stomach flip at the conviction in Clarke's voice. She gave her best wry smile, "Sailing into," she corrected.

Clarke managed a weak smile back, "That too," she said, and then she paused as the elevator let out it's usual groan as it neared the bottom of the tower. "I suppose the journey there at least will be something of a getaway for us. I'm excited about that," Clarke tried once the noise had died down. The elevator came to a shuddering stop.

Lexa knew that Clarke was still trying to convince herself, and so she held back on a reply. Instead she lifted Clarke's hand to her mouth and placed a chaste kiss upon it's back. When she let their hands fall back to their sides between them, Lexa found herself reluctant to let go so quickly, and Clarke was clearly in no rush to either. The couple made their way out of the elevator and along the corridor, grasping tightly to each other the whole way. It was only at the very last moment, when the guards at the entrance to the tower swung open the large doors that led out to the city, that Lexa and Clarke's hands parted. They exited the tower in a confident, matching stride, with their faces passive and their heads held high. Perhaps once they were out of the city, they could let themselves relax a little again, but for now, it had come time to don their masks. Commander and Ambassador, moving swiftly towards the stables, ready to depart on some important business or other. It wouldn't be long until word of where they were going swept through the city streets.

There were not that many people around in the market at the late hour, but those who were still milling about the streets quickly stopped their conversations, or their drinking, or whatever else they were up to in order to bow respectfully as their Commander swept past. Lexa inclined her head this way and that in acknowledgment of the offered respect, but otherwise did not slow her pace.

When they reached the Commander's official stable, only a short walk away from the tower and situated right by the main path in and out of the center of the capital, their horses had already been saddled and were waiting outside the structure, held by two stable hands. Luna was already there and preparing to mount up, though she stopped at Lexa and Clarke's arrival. Behind Luna's horse, we're several others, their riders already sitting atop their beasts and ready to go. The guards and attendants from the tower that Lexa had chosen as part of her entourage. Trusted men and women all. The only person present who did not have a horse, for she was being left behind, was Indra, and Lexa gave a friendly nod to the General in thanks for her being there to see them on their way.

"You took your time," was the first thing Luna said, as she passed the reins on her horse to one of the stable hands and came forward, inclining her head in something that was almost an acceptable form of a bow. "I thought you weren't coming," she said.

Lexa surprised herself when she realized she was holding back a smirk at Luna's words. She wondered briefly if she had spent too much time with Raven. "We're here now," she gave in terse response, deciding that she was nowhere near close to a place where she would feel comfortable making jokes with Luna. Still, she felt as Clarke slyly nudged her shoulder against Lexa's arm, and Lexa struggled once more to keep her face devoid of expression as she glared Luna down.

"We should get moving, I want to be at the ship before first light, give my crew some time to prepare before we make way," Luna suggested.

Lexa gave a nod. Before she made to mount her horse though, Lexa turned her attention to Indra and beckoned her over. At the invitation, Indra stepped forwards.

"It is good of you to see us off, General," Lexa spoke softly, despite the formality of using Indra's title.

"I wanted the chance to assure you that I will watch over Aden and the novitiates. And to wish you both well on your travels. I hope these people across the ocean prove to be strong allies, and that you return with another great success behind you, Commander," Indra answered, and then she turned her attention to Clarke, who was still right at Lexa's shoulder. "I will also make sure that Skaikru are safe in your absence, Ambassador," Indra offered.

Clarke made a noise of appreciation at the offer. "You mean that you'll make sure they stay out of trouble," she insisted.

Indra almost shrugged. "Skaikru do seem to attract it. And with that in mind, you know what else I am going to say."

Lexa's lips turned up just slightly at Clarke's affronted expression. Clarke glanced towards her and Lexa looked back expectantly.

"I'll try to keep us out of trouble, too," Clarke muttered at last, "Though I don't appreciate this suggestion that it's always me leading us into it," she protested.

"A fair point," Indra conceded, and then Lexa watched as the General moved away towards Luna.

Luna had been waiting for the group to finish speaking at a respectful distance, though Lexa noted the narrowness of Luna's eyes. Either she thought that she was the topic of conversation, or perhaps she was a little envious of seeing her old mentor being so close with Lexa. Luna was as difficult to pin down as ever. Lexa thought it best to stop the guesswork for now, and so she moved to her horse and took the reins into her hands, turning the beast about with her so that she could oversee the rest of the group as the final preparations were made. The stable hand, with his hands free now, took Lexa's duffel bag from her and skilfully affixed it to the back of the saddle.

In short time, both Luna and Clarke were mounted up, leaving Lexa alone to get on her horse. Lexa delayed a little longer, watching with interest as Indra approached Luna's horse and looked up to her former second.

"It was good to see you again, though I suppose this may be the last time we will see one another," Indra said in goodbye to Luna, loud enough for her Commander to overhear. "I only hope that you are happy over there, that you've finally stopped feeling the need to run."

"I have," Luna assured, "and I will return home happy to know that you are also well."

Lexa appreciated Indra's attempt to gleam a little more information from Luna within the goodbye wishes. She smiled when Indra rounded on her and approached Lexa for their farewell exchange. Lexa immediately offered out her forearm, and Indra took it, and then Lexa was stunned as Indra pulled her forward into a most unexpected embrace. It was only when Lexa felt Indra's breath at her ear that she relaxed into the uncharacteristic gesture, and sure enough, Indra began to whisper.

"She is hiding things, I am sure of it. Tread carefully, and come home," Indra said.

"Thank you, Indra. We will be cautious," Lexa assured in her own whisper, and then they parted. "Goodbye, my friend," Lexa said.

Indra smiled, but did not forgo decorum herself, "Safe travels, Commander."

With that, Lexa hefted herself up onto her horse and dug her heels into the beast's sides to spur it into a trot. The rest of the group followed suit and at last, they were properly on their way. Lexa heard as one set of hooves broke sync with the others, and then Luna appeared in her peripheral vision, head bobbing in time to her horse's movements.

"You seem close with Indra," Luna observed.

Lexa gave a nod, but did not bother to turn her head towards Luna, preferring to keep her eyes forward as she guided her horse through the capital. "The General is my personal guard. Which is why I trust her above all others to stay behind and keep watch over Aden."

"What happened to Gustus?"

"Gone," Lexa breathed out, not feeling in the mood to elaborate. At the same time, she realized how many more things there were about the Kongeda that Luna did not know the half of. "I am surprised you didn't wish to stay longer. This was your home, and there is much that has changed in your absence. It would be easiest for you to see it yourself," Lexa said, and she couldn't help but wonder if she should have shown Luna more. Introduced her to the novitiates perhaps, to let Luna see how different their lives are from Lexa and Luna's experiences training in the tower. Let Luna suggest that anyone was making Lexa harsher then.

"Perhaps I would have," Luna considered, "But Europa is my home now and I am keen to get back. And they expect me to return within a month, or else they'll assume the worst."

Lexa took in the rare piece of information Luna had offered. "And what would happen then, were you to miss your deadline to return?" Lexa almost hissed the question out as the urge to protect her people bubbled inside her and made her blood run hot.

"Nothing," Luna responded, "They would know that the Kongeda did not wish to make contact, and so they would leave you be," she claimed.

Lexa was not convinced. But then, surely Luna had described the Kongeda's lack of technical capability to Europa. Perhaps they would be content to simply ignore Lexa's people, knowing there was little chance of the Kongeda having the means to mount a full-scale attack. No, as a leader, that screamed of complacency to Lexa, and so she suspected that Luna was being dishonest. Lexa flexed her jaw, tired that every answer Luna gave only lead to more questions. She pulled back on the reins to slow her horse, so that Luna's pulled in front. Luna would have to lead the way after all, and it was a clear indication as any that the Commander was done talking.

As soon as Luna was a way in front, Clarke's horse trotted up next to Lexa's and fell into a matching pace. Lexa tried to be coy, refusing to meet Clarke's eyes. She smiled when she felt Clarke's booted foot knock against her own, and at last, Lexa turned her head towards her niron. The pair of them shared a look, a hundred words passing between them totally unspoken. Almost all of them to do with Luna. Lexa mused over just how many of these silent conversations she and Clarke would be sharing throughout the journey.

"Hey," Clarke prompted gently at last, "Want to play I spy?" she joked.

Lexa laughed, "I'll pass," she said, for it wouldn't take them long to make it out of the city, and then only trees or sky would be their available options. Lexa battled with the urge to glance back towards the tower. The horse carried her forward and she quickened the beast's pace to a canter once they'd made it to the city outskirts where the path was wider and even quieter. As Lexa rode head first into another challenge, another unknown, her greatest comfort was that this time, she had someone to share it all with. Clarke's horse never once faltered in it's pace, and Clarke remained stubbornly at her side the whole way out of the city, as Luna led them East towards the ocean.


	4. Accelerant

**4\. Accelerant**

The ship could be seen the moment the horses had broken through the treeline to reveal the shore a few hundred meters beyond. The vessel was so vast as to be unmissable, a whitish grey blip on the horizon that grew larger and larger the closer the horses took them. By the time the beasts made it onto the beach, trotting over sand and shale, picking their way through the army camp erected by the five hundred warriors that would be accompanying Lexa's entourage across the ocean, the ship dominated the landscape. Clarke couldn't help but to feel more and more awe inspired by the vessel the closer she got.

She'd seen enough pictures and videos of the old world back at school on the Ark to safely hazard a guess that it was a cruise ship. Once upon a time, it would have ferried people around the world on their vacations. And now, quite fittingly, it would once again allow people to venture to new shores and experience new cultures.

"She's a beauty," Clarke appraised as she brought her horse to a stop besides the creaky wooden pier that would take them to the ship. Luna came to a stop beside her and they both made a show of glancing over the vessel. Clarke tried and failed to guess how many decks there were by the rows of portholes. Either way, the ship was as impressively tall as it was long, especially thanks to the jutting crow's nest.

"Isn't she? The Adonia II was lucky enough to be at sea when the bombs fell. She survived the end of the world and made it to port in what used to be France," Luna answered.

Clarke furrowed her brow, "What about fuel? Wouldn't it have degraded by now?"

Luna motioned her head back to the ship, "The hull," she said, "is almost entirely made up of integrated solar cells. The power is collected from the sun and stored in a battery. I'm sure she'll be up to full power by now, with the sunrise directly behind her port side. Though I can't promise you a journey as luxurious as people would have enjoyed a hundred years ago. You can't get the staff these days," Luna explained with a smile. It was clear that she was proud to be Captain of such a vessel, and no doubt grateful to the people who had entrusted the ship to her. Clarke made note. She was genuinely fascinated to hear more about the workings of the ship, and anything that she could discuss with Luna that circumnavigated the topic of Europa itself was sure to make the journey more bearable. The ship was massive, but Clarke assumed they'd still find themselves in each other's company often enough.

Then again, it wasn't as if the journey to the ship had been particularly fraught. Once the entourage had pushed past the fatigue caused by the lateness of their journey, and adrenaline had kicked in to keep everyone going, Clarke had finally started to feel more than a little excited about the journey. Small talk had come easily enough on the ride, a way to pass the hours on horseback. They'd barely stopped all night, except to water and feed the horses, and had made excellent time to the coast. Now, though the looming shape of the ship hid the view, the growing lightness of the sky suggested that dawn had come, and they would soon be sailing right into the sunrise.

Clarke wasted no more time in dismounting her horse, and though her legs were sore after the hours in the saddle, the feeling of sand underfoot was a welcome change. She stretched her arms over her head as she moved between the rest of the horses that had pulled up behind and beside her own, trying to loosen the tension in her body. Once the sight back up the beach was unobstructed, Clarke's eyes began searching out Lexa. The Commander had held back with two guards to give the orders to the army camp to pack up. Already most of the tents had been deconstructed. Only a few would be left standing, to house those people who would stay behind and tend to the horses until their Commander's return.

Clarke finally picked Lexa out as she emerged from the frenetic movements in the camp, and Clarke dared to beckon Lexa over with a wave of her hand. Clarke watched as Lexa steered her horse down the beach towards the pier, but then the Commander paused about halfway and tilted her head to the side, her expression curious and in total anachronism to her otherwise flawless and fully regaled appearance. When Lexa finally kicked her horse back into motion and made it to where Clarke was standing, there was a wide grin on her face, and though Clarke did not yet know why she was smiling, the sight was infectious and made her grin too.

"It isn't as big as the tower," Lexa stated matter-of-factly as she swung herself easily off her horse. As if summoned by her words, Luna appeared at Clarke's side.

"There's only about three meters between it," Luna argued, "and only if you count the tower's beacon."

"You count the beacon," Lexa shot back.

Clarke fought against the urge to shoot Lexa a look when the eyes of the entourage were on them. They could totter along the line of professional and playful, but a wrong step wouldn't do. Still, if Lexa had just ruined the progress Clarke felt she had made with Luna with her teasing, Lexa would be hearing all about it at some point.

"You haven't lost your cheek," Luna said to Lexa, and Clarke inwardly breathed a sigh of relief that Luna had chosen to see the funny side.

"The army will be ready to board shortly," Lexa announced then, dropping the teasing to get to business, "Though our departure would have been quicker were they already on the ship."

Clarke edged closer to Lexa's side almost unconsciously, wanting to remind everyone where her loyalties lay. She briefly wondered how difficult it was going to be for her to take a step back and let Lexa and Luna direct proceedings now that they had at last made it to the start of the journey. It was no secret that Clarke was present on the trip first and foremost as the partner of the Commander, for none of the other clan Ambassador's had even tried to invite themselves. With that in mind, both Lexa and Luna's people would surely expect her to have little more than an advisory role on the trip, and Clarke was adamant on keeping up appearances. The Kongeda might be wise to Clarke's willingness to forgo propriety occasionally, but Europa were not. If she did need to overstep at any time during the journey or their stay in Europa, to protect Lexa or Skaikru, then she didn't need to announce that it was going to happen.

"It would have," Luna agreed, "I am sure my crew had their reasons for waiting before letting them onboard, however," she said, and then she pointed down the pier where a man was making his way to them from the ship. "Perhaps my second mate will explain."

The second mate made it to the top of the pier and stepped down onto the sand. He bowed his head towards Luna, "Captain," he greeted formally.

Luna returned the gesture, "It is good to see you, Guillaume," Luna responded, "May I introduce you to Heda Lexa kom Trikru, leader of the Kongeda," Luna said.

Clarke watched Guillaume as he measured Lexa up, before bowing his head to her too. Lexa nodded back, but said nothing.

"And Bandrona Clarke kom Skaikru, Ambassador of the Kongeda and Heda Lexa's partner," Luna finished the introductions.

"The warriors," Lexa prompted, before Clarke had time to say anything in greeting. Still, Clarke felt herself bristle under Guillaume's eyes as he took in her appearance too. There was plenty of curiosity on both sides.

Clarke observed with interest as Luna turned her attention to her second mate and spoke quickly to him in a language that sounded almost identical to old-world French. Guillaume gave his reply in an even faster, natural accent that confirmed him to be Europan. Once they were done, Luna acknowledged Lexa and Clarke again.

"Guillaume made the decision not to allow the army onto the ship without getting my permission in person. He says that they've kept to themselves on the beach, though the crew has observed the warriors sparring with one another and were a little concerned by what they saw," Luna reported.

Clarke felt rather than saw the way that Lexa squared up. Even outdoors, the Commander's presence filled the air. The unmistakable feeling of being in the presence of someone who possessed a great deal of power and knew just how to wear it.

"The warriors were likely selecting the person to lead them," Lexa said simply, and Clarke was about to volunteer more information when she remembered that Luna would know exactly what Lexa meant already. When a group of warriors from different villages, or in this case clans, were to fight together, their General was often chosen through non-lethal dueling, and the winner would report directly to and receive orders from the Commander.

"I just explained as much to Guillaume, though I hope you can appreciate the crew's nervousness. None of them are combative," Luna revealed.

Clarke saw Lexa's jaw tense, and then the Commander spoke, "With your permission, Luna, I would like to address my warriors on the deck once they have boarded. Your crew are also more than welcome to listen, if you are willing to translate."

"Well, I'll probably be doing a lot of that when we get to Europa. I've taught the President and her Delegates as much English, sorry gonasleng, as I could before my journey, but nobody is quite fluent yet. It would be good practice," Luna agreed, "and I am sure my crew will feel more at ease were they to see for themselves the discipline of your warriors, and hear from the Commander herself why the army is accompanying us in the first place."

The terseness in Lexa and Luna's voices were almost enough to give Clarke whiplash, given that just five minutes ago the pair of them had been much closer to resembling the old friends they were. It was clear that as long as they were on her ship, Luna was going to consider herself to be the one in charge. It made Clarke nervy. Whilst she could vouch for Lexa's ability to occasionally surrender control in the right setting, this situation wasn't exactly comparable to any in which that had happened before. Not by a long way.

Luna at last ushered the entourage onto the pier, instructing Guillaume to take Clarke and Lexa's bags from them. Luna invited them all to make their way onto the ship, but Clarke's excitement had once again been supplanted by worry, a constant switching that made Clarke's head bang right behind her eyes.

* * *

It had taken just slightly too long by Lexa's high standards for the army to complete packing up the camp and board the ship. At last the warriors were gathered upon the top deck, with Commander Lexa stood before them, standing right at the prow of the ship. Clarke stood to her right, and Luna her left. The rest of her entourage had already intermingled with the warriors, keen to be among the familiar. Even so, there was a definite buzz in the atmosphere, emanating from the warriors, and it made Lexa happy. She hoped that each warrior recognized what an opportunity this was, that each warrior would take the journey to Europa and whatever they found there into their stride. Still, making her expectations clear never hurt, and so Lexa raised a hand into the air to call the attention of the army and the gathered force quickly fell to total silence.

"Warriors of the Kongeda," Lexa started, clasping her hands behind her back and surveying her people with a serious eye. The words of her speech came easily, a measured and professional delivery, despite it being the first time that Lexa had needed to address a force of such size in a year. Some things you did not forget. She left a pause after each sentence, to give Luna a chance to translate the words for her crew. "Firstly I would like to thank you all for your promptness in reaching Floukru territory, and for the discipline shown during the boarding of Captain Luna's vessel. I understand that this ship is unlike anything any of us have seen before. I understand that it is a type of technology that our society usually chooses to shun. And so I commend your bravery, and your obedience. The Kongeda's strength is in its people. It's strength is in the unity of thirteen clans. That is what you are here to represent. The clans have long prided themselves on the rigor of their warriors, but you are not making this journey as a violent force, but as a leading example of the order and discipline championed by our people."

Lexa gave pause a moment, allowing herself the time to read the expressions of her warriors. They appeared interested enough in what Lexa had to say to them, but their watching eyes paled in comparison to the feeling of scrutiny coming from Luna's crew. The vessel was, Luna had informed Lexa, running on a skeleton crew of fifty souls, and every single one of them had appeared on the top deck to get their first glance at the Commander. Lexa was used to feeling scrutinized, it came with the title, but this was something else. Lexa supposed that such avid curiosity was much preferable to outward signs of hostility or mistrust, and so she allowed it. And she was equally as curious about Luna's people.

They were dressed strangely. That was one of the first things that had caught Lexa's attention. They did not wear hide and scraps like her people, nor the tattered and restyled hand-me-downs of the Skaikru. Rather they were dressed in clothes that could have been plucked straight from the past, from before the bombs fell. Lexa wondered how the clothes had survived so long, if they were indeed relics from the old world, but even such a simple line of inquiry opened up a myriad other questions about Europa. Questions that Lexa might ask on the course of the journey, or might not.

Asking questions only opened up the opportunity to be told more lies and half-truths. Lexa was starting to err on the side of just waiting and seeing. Finding out sooner about a society that seemed to have such a lot to hide might seem like the pertinent thing to do. But it could also make the journey across the ocean seem less like an exciting first experience for Lexa and her warriors, and more akin to a prisoner's final march to the execution log. Lexa knew that the warriors of the Kongeda could be rowdy bunch. Add the superstitions of their culture on top of that, and it was clear to Lexa that panic needed to be avoided, even at the cost of keeping everyone, including herself, in the dark.

"Though you have received your orders from your chosen General, I wish to deliver them myself," Lexa picked up again, "When we arrive in Europa you will remain stationed by the ship. You will wait. You are not to threaten, attack, or otherwise harass the people of Europa without direct order from myself, sent to you from my location by a messenger. In the event that either my entourage or a messenger do not arrive by the time of the next full moon, you are to assume hostility and proceed how you think best to protect the Kongeda," Lexa's face was grim as she delivered the least pleasant orders, it wasn't the note she wanted to end on. It wasn't the last impression she wanted to give to the crew whilst they all had their eyes upon her.

"I hope you all join me in wishing that doesn't happen. Recognize this journey as the amazing opportunity it is. We must learn from previous encounters with new groups of people, and prove to ourselves that we can do this properly. I want you all to enjoy this visit, and to return home to the Kongeda confident that we have made contact with new allies. Have stories to tell to your family and friends when you return home. Make the most of the new sights, the new culture." Lexa's voice lifted just slightly, losing its cool edge as she implored her warriors with her words, "Show Europa what the Kongeda is capable of at its best, so that they may know us as worthy allies."

With that, Lexa brought her speech to a close and she offered a nod to her warriors, before turning her attention to Luna as the Captain finished translating the last line. There was a beat, and then the crowd of warriors broke out into a chant of Lexa's title, a clear sign that she had been heard, and her directions understood and accepted. Lexa let the noise wash over her, held back a smile when she heard Clarke join in the chanting enthusiastically from her side. And then, Luna joined in too, and at her urging, so did her crew. Lexa breathed deeply, enjoying the thrumming, united noise, 'Heda! Heda! Heda!', and then she raised a hand to bring quiet once again.

Once the deck was quiet, Luna took a step forward and gave directions to her crew in their own language. Lexa assumed that she had asked them to take their stations, for they all went darting off in different directions. Ten remained on the deck beside the warriors, and judging by their hand movements, they were tasked with seeing the army to their quarters on the decks below. Lexa found herself keen to find out where she and Clarke would be sleeping, for the exhaustion of the journey was at last beginning to creep into her bones. Lexa blinked slowly and forced herself to focus.

"Your warriors should be quite happy, on the eighth and ninth decks. The ship is only at half capacity, so each warrior can even have their own room," Luna spoke, and sure enough, the warriors started to move off across the deck towards one of the doors that led into the ship's interior. Lexa wasn't sure she'd ever seen such a large group of Kongeda warriors move so uniformly. They reminded her of times she'd watched the novitiates being shepherded out of the throne room single file behind Titus after a lesson.

"I'm sure there'll be some room sharing," Lexa ventured with a raised brow.

Luna laughed at that, "Well, I suppose they're just embracing this vessel's original purpose a hundred years too late. And I'd rather not have them reaching the shores of Europa pent up," she figured, and then her face fell serious, "You spoke well, Commander. It was like being in lessons with you again. Always the first to answer."

Lexa smirked at the memories but said nothing.

"I'm sure you wish to see your own quarters, but I hope you'll be able to wait a little longer, to see us make way. Join me in the wheel room both of you?" Luna offered.

Lexa gave a nod, quietly pleased that Luna had thought to extend the offer to Clarke too. Lexa didn't doubt that Clarke would have a much better understanding of the workings of the ship than Lexa would at first. Perhaps it even held some resemblance to the Ark. The couple fell into step behind Luna, and shared a look somewhere between foreboding and eagerness.

The wheel room was just above the deck, in a room that jutted out over the ship's main exterior. Luna led them up a set of stairs with a faded restricted access sign painted at their base and into the room where the ship was largely operated from. Lexa was equally fascinated and terrified by the sheer number of instruments and buttons in the room. Especially given that other than themselves, there were only three other people in the room, and only one of them was sat next to the panels of a thousand buttons. Luna must have sensed Lexa's unease, for she glanced back at Lexa with a grin,

"I wouldn't worry, half these things are superfluous to us," Luna said, "and my crew are excellent. They'll get us to Europa in good time. Around a week, all being well. With only having a skeleton crew, we aren't pushing the old girl to her limits."

"Do her cells recharge whilst the ship's in motion, or does she have to be stationary?" Clarke asked curiously, and already Lexa felt her tech unsavvy brain having to churn to keep up.

"In motion, but slowly," Luna said, "We should be fine, but if the battery gets past three-quarters empty, I'd rather us pause and recharge faster."

Lexa was about to ask Luna more questions about the roles of each member of her crew, when a flashing light on the wall caught her attention by turning to a static, bright beam.

"We're ready to move," Luna announced, "Best reserve your seats," she said, pointing to the window of the wheel room. Lexa and Clarke moved and peered out to observe the shore. The waves were gentle as they lapped their way up the sand.

Lexa let the sound of Luna starting to give directions to the others in the room: Guillaume, the console woman, and the man at the wheel, drift by unheard, for they were speaking their own tongue. Besides that, Lexa wanted to trust these people to do their jobs and asking too many questions now might give the opposite impression. Lexa felt as the ship began to hum, the feeling of the engines kicking in far below sending mild vibrations through the ship. Clarke's hand found her own just as the ship began to move. Lexa peered over her shoulder just to watch the wheelman spinning the wheel hard to port, and then she looked forward again. The ship turned itself ninety degrees, the sight of the shore giving way to the open ocean and then, both Lexa and Clarke had to shield their eyes as the rising sun, the bright burning circle now fully above the horizon, came into view. Lexa heard the progress of the wheel being turned back to central position and the ship began to carve forward through the water, quickly gathering speed and leaving the Kongeda behind. Lexa felt her heart hammering away in her ribcage, she found herself wanting to go back outside, to truly appreciate the strange sensation of the whole vessel moving forward under her boots. She let go of Clarke and span on her heel to locate Luna, took her first slightly uneven step against the momentum of the ship. Luna was beaming at her. The Captain was in her element.

"Do you want to be shown to your quarters?" she asked.

Lexa had spied their belongings waiting for them in a corner of the wheel room where Guillaume had deposited them, and she thought about her cozy nightwear folded neatly inside her bag and almost succumbed to the offer. Lexa glanced back at Clarke and saw that she was smiling too. A breathtaking smile. Clarke wrinkled her nose and shook her head at Lexa, giving her own answer.

"No, it can wait," Lexa replied to Luna, echoing Clarke's stubbornness against the weariness she felt. She let the adrenaline wash it away.

Luna seemed to understand perfectly the thrill that Lexa was feeling, for she walked over to the door that led back out onto the deck and opened it wide, "Go on," she urged, and then, as Lexa and Clarke all but bounded to the door and moved past her, she added quietly, "There's that goofball kid I remember. It's good to have you onboard, Lexa."

Lexa gave Luna a pat on the shoulder, but otherwise did not pause her progress. She and Clarke were the only two people out on deck for only a short time, however. Soon enough, the space filled with almost all of Lexa's warriors again, all of them fighting against the urge to rest just like Lexa and Clarke were. And the childlike wonder that Lexa felt at racing into the sunrise on the ship was reflected in each of their eyes. It was quite the far cry from seeing the horror of war reflected there instead.

* * *

Lincoln surveyed the long corridor of the tower curiously. The Commander's tower was a place he'd visited only a handful of times before, and even that was considered unusual for a warrior of his level. A field medic had little cause to visit the hub of politics in the world, though the times that he had visited had been at the request of the very person he was now being taken to by a spindly middle-aged attendant. Lincoln had already been informed that if he wished to speak with Heda, she was no longer there. That meant he had also missed Luna. Still, rather than turn about and head home immediately, Lincoln had happily agreed to be taken to speak with General Indra instead.

The attendant had led him from the entrance to the tower into the elevator, up and up two-thirds of the way. From there, Lincoln hadn't really kept track of the path they'd taken through the winding corridors. Instead, he had found his gaze wandering, taking in the decor. It was certainly more lavish than he had been used to back in TonDC, but still infinitely more familiar to him than the surroundings in Arkadia. The natural surfaces and decorations; furs and sculptures mounted on wood panel walls. The soft glow of candlelight, rather than electric bulbs, lighting the way. The surroundings instilled a sense of warmth in Lincoln, and that homely feeling only grew as the attendant at last stopped outside a large door, knocked and waited for permission to enter, and then opened it to reveal Indra.

Warrior and General regarded each other in silence a moment as Lincoln was ushered into the room. Indra's face betrayed no surprise at her unexpected visitor, but Lincoln caught a flash of something like happiness in those piercing, wise eyes. Both of them waited until the attendant had bowed respectfully and taken his leave, shutting the door behind him. Once they were alone, Lincoln could not keep the wide smile from his face any longer and he stepped forward, already offering out his forearm. Indra's facade broke the moment he was in reach, and the pair clasped forearms enthusiastically, grateful to be in one another's presence again after so long.

"Lincoln," Indra greeted him simply as she relinquished his arm. "You came to see Luna? I'm afraid you missed her," she said immediately after. Indra wasn't the sort for drawn out hellos and so Lincoln wasn't taken aback by Indra's immediately guessing the reason for his visit.

Lincoln gave a shrug, "I wasn't holding out on getting here in time," he said, "I only found out it was Luna who had reappeared when Raven and Dr. Griffin returned to Arkadia."

Indra frowned at that, "Then you rode all night to get here? You must be tired Lincoln," she said, sounding almost concerned.

"A little," Lincoln admitted.

At that, Indra seemed to grow less stiff in posture, and she pointed to one of two chairs in the room. Lincoln took the chance to sit down without question, though once his back hit the chair, he only then became fully aware that this was Indra's private room. He'd only ever seen the place where Indra rested her head while at war, when he'd found himself in her war tent. Now, his eyes started to roam again, as he took in the space, and he wondered just how many people had been privy to seeing it before. It was sparsely decorated. Functional, with a bed, the chairs, a few tables, a closet. Everything you needed in a bedroom and little else. Most of the light came in through the windows, casting shadows in the space that were cozy rather than ominous. There wasn't much in the way of extra decoration, other than a few mounted weapons upon the wall, and most surprisingly, a large piece of art. Lincoln gave a sad smile when he spied it. It was TonDC, how it had looked before the missile had wiped it from existence. The ramshackle metal buildings of home, the wall around them, the forest beyond. The muddy ground and a grey tinge to the sky. To everything. TonDC in winter then.

"A gift," Indra spoke, taking the other seat for herself, "from Bandrona Clarke."

Lincoln tried to hide his surprise that Indra and Clarke were now on gift-giving terms with one another. Back when TonDC had served as the base of operations for the newly allied Trikru and Skaikru, Indra's feelings about Clarke hadn't exactly been favorable, Lincoln recalled. The idea that Indra may have developed some affection towards Clarke was worthy of a quiet chuckle. He saw Indra's lips twitch just a little.

"It's been a long time," she said, and Lincoln was sure that Indra knew exactly what he was thinking. She was right too. The past year had seen them out of each other's daily lives for longer than they had been in years.

Though neither of them had known how important they'd become to one another at first, they were both from the same Trikru village. Both from TonDC. Indra had known Lincoln in passing as a boy, when she wasn't away from the village waging war in Heda Toman's name. Lincoln vaguely recollected seeing her around the village. He thought he remembered her smiling a lot for a warrior. Then, Indra had gone away to Polis to mentor one of the nightbloods, having been selected for the momentous task thanks to her considerable skill. They'd not happened across one another again until Lincoln had returned from the newly established Floukru territory to find that TonDC's new Chief was Indra, the warriors returned home at last by Heda Lexa's personal appointment. Indra had not punished Lincoln for abandoning his people, in exchange for information about Luna's wellbeing. From there, the pair of them had formed a friendship, no, a familial bond, that must have seemed quite unlikely to any observers.

Indra appeared to be by the book, strict, deeply respectful of traditions. Lincoln was none of those things. And he had known, perhaps better than anyone else at that time, that underneath Indra's rigidness, was a woman who actually shared ideals not too dissimilar to his own. Lincoln had always suspected that her strict adherence to the rules, as they were, had been a reaction to the scandal surrounding Luna. Luna had been branded a traitor and a coward, and that implicated Indra too. Put Indra's respect towards tradition under harsh scrutiny. Better to appear over-zealous to protect yourself in a situation like that. That Indra had since been called to serve as Lexa's personal bodyguard, replacing Gustus, was proof enough for Lincoln that his instincts were correct. Lexa, Indra, himself; all warriors who had no love for war. They weren't exactly pacifists, they understood that sometimes war was the only resort left, but they'd all sacrifice plenty in the hopes that war would never come around again.

"A long time," Lincoln echoed back at last, emerging from his personal thoughts. "How is Luna?" he asked then, for that was the reason for his visit after all, though he found himself, sitting in a comfy chair in Indra's room, happier to be somewhere so resolutely Trikru than he'd imagined he would be. That fact was threatening to make him forget his motive for being there.

Indra did not reply right away, a dark expression passing over her features. "Luna is well," she answered. "Grown-up. Perhaps not in a way I would have imagined."

"How'd you mean?" Lincoln asked, and the hair on his arms stood on end, telling him he might not like the answer. He wanted it still.

"She's been away from home a long time," Indra said, "It's clear that whatever she has found across the ocean has, for her, become a better fit. But-"

"But that has hurt you?" Lincoln offered softly. Supportive. If he were anyone else, on of the axes on the wall might just have found itself burrowed in his skull. Instead, Indra nodded.

"I don't pretend that I thought Luna was happy here. How could any of the novitiates be truly happy, knowing what would become of them? Still, I raised her. I taught her all that I know and tried to encourage her to be the best she could be. So to have her back and to find myself looking at her like I would look at a stranger," Indra paused, shook her head like she knew she couldn't keep talking without revealing too much. Lincoln got the distinct impression that Indra was less than happy that Lexa had gone along to Europa with Luna. He got the impression that Indra was struggling to trust her old second, and though he himself had been the subject of Indra's mistrust numerous times before, he knew that this fractured relationship must feel even worse for Indra. She'd be suspicious of her closest friends because it was her duty to be, but that didn't make for an easy way to live Lincoln thought.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you for lodgings?" Lincoln said, dropping the subject of Luna entirely and deciding that it might be better that he missed her after all. He knew now for certain that he wanted to stick around in Polis for a while. He needed to. What Indra had said about looking at Luna as if she were a stranger had struck him hard. He didn't want himself and Indra to end up that way. Not at all.

"Of course. Though I expected that you'd want to head straight back to Arkadia, now that you've missed Luna," Indra replied.

"Nobody expects me back right away," Lincoln assured. "Besides, I think it's been a little too long since I visited my old home myself," he said, and whether he meant Trikru territory, or Indra by that, he wasn't certain.

"I will have a room prepared for you, Lincoln," Indra said, and she smiled, "and perhaps I could ask you for help. You see, with Aden tending to the throne, I've been left in charge of the novitiate's lessons. With Clarke gone, they are missing out on their medical lessons. Nor am I as good at recreational time as their younger teachers."

Lincoln grinned too, finding himself thinking back to Arkadia, and to babysitting the twins with Octavia. All good practice for the future, he thought. "I think I can lend a hand there," he assured.

* * *

Octavia craned her neck to the sky and scowled at the darkening clouds. It looked like they were in for some rain, if not a full, blustery storm. She found herself hoping that Lincoln had already made it to Polis. He should have, if he hadn't stopped much, for it was approaching midday. Or Octavia assumed it was, it was difficult to tell when the sun was blotted out. It felt like she'd been awake for a long time. An empty bed wasn't exactly welcoming for too long to someone who was no longer accustomed to sleeping alone. Octavia had risen early and, with nothing much to do, she had walked every corridor inside and now, every square foot outside. She trudged over the dirt, keeping off the marked paths and out of the way of people who did have tasks to attend to. As promised, she'd spent the hours wracking her brain for something that she could do, but had so far come up empty.

A long sigh was interrupted when Octavia found herself having to duck to avoid an incoming projectile. A leather ball shaped projectile that narrowly missed her scrunched up face as it passed over-head, kicked a little too eagerly by one of the kids playing outside.

"Moba, Octavia!" came the bright apology of a girl as she rushed in front of Octavia, chasing the runaway ball to bring it back into play. The girl was the child of one of the Trikru healers, as were some of the other kids playing, though most of them were Skaikru offspring. Octavia gave up her pacing around and found herself watching the ballgame as it picked back up. It was nice to see the two groups interacting. Innocent, childish games played with no concern for the rocky start the adults of each group had shared. The teams were even mixed, rather than it being Skaikru versus Trikru. It was also something that Octavia had sorely lacked in her own childhood, the chance to play and to make friends, and so she quickly found herself growing invested in the spectacle.

At first Octavia thought the children were playing soccer, but then one of the players scooped the ball up, switching from dribbling to carrying. That was until they were rather viciously tackled by a player on the opposing team. Octavia watched as the kid who had won the ball tossed it back to the floor, dribbling it towards what she assumed was the goal, though only one was marked out by two abandoned jackets piled on the floor. There weren't any goalkeepers in the single goal either, until someone from the opposite team came barreling forward to defend the space between the coats. The girl on the ball took her shot, the defender come goalie started to dive. The goalie was tackled in the process by another kid, and subsequently did not make the save.

Octavia almost laughed, wondering if she should teach the grounder kids the real rules to soccer. But then, if the Skaikru children had any protests to this more rough and tumble version, they didn't seem keen to voice them. Still, her amusement ceased when she noticed that the boy who had lunged at the goalkeeper had tackled with such ferocity that he'd scraped his knee on the floor, a healthy sized gash showing through now ripped pants. Not that Octavia saw anything too alarming about a scraped knee, but it was bleeding quite a bit, and covered in mud at that. Octavia walked out onto the 'pitch', the largest area of open land left in Arkadia's exterior and the designated play area whether the adults liked it or not. Her presence brought the game to a halt. The effect made Octavia feel quite old.

"Hey," she greeted the child with the scraped knee. She recognized him as Skaikru and so she spoke in gonasleng, "You should go to the medbay to get that cleaned up."

The kid tutted and rolled his eyes in response. Octavia tried a stern frown.

"Do you want it to get infected?" she asked firmly.

The boy scowled back before shaking his head, "No," he admitted.

"Alright then, come on," Octavia prompted, and she started to lead the boy towards the main entrance into Arkadia. When she glanced back over her shoulder, the boy was tailing her diligently with blood running from his knee. He had been joined by another Skaikru boy, and the Trikru girl who had nearly booted the ball into Octavia's face. She still looked a little sheepish.

"You're friend has quite the right foot," Octavia said as she led the small gaggle inside and took a left towards the medbay.

The boy nodded in agreement but said nothing. They reached the medbay in silence and Octavia was glad to find Abby inside.

"Got a patient for you Dr. Griffin," Octavia announced.

Abby turned at the sound of her voice and then smiled widely as she spotted the kids. "Uh oh," she said, "What have we got?"

Octavia pointed out the boy's knee, "A big, nasty scrape," she said, "thanks to a very rough game of. Well, it wasn't soccer, that's for sure."

"We were playing _sposbol_ ," the boy answered matter-of-factly. "It's a Trikru game and you can use your hands and your feet. But you have to tackle with your feet when it's dribbling, and like rugby when the ball is being carried," as the boy explained the rules in one long breath, Octavia picked him up and deposited him on the edge of one of the cots. All were empty, so she just chose the nearest. "And there are no goalkeepers, just the defenders like Imran, and I'm an attacker so when my team tries to score a goal, there's only one goal, I'm allowed to tackle Imran so that he can't save the ball."

"And then we get scraped knees," Octavia offered to Abby in explanation for how the injury came about.

Abby turned from where she was preparing the equipment she'd need to clean the boy up. "I see," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Octavia watched as Abby wheeled a tray over to the cot. The doctor took scissors to the boy's already ripped pants and cut a wider square. "These will have to be patched," Abby said. With the wound easily accessible, Abby started to clean the mud and blood off with a cloth and warm water. Octavia watched the boy for any sign of discomfort, but he took it all in his stride.

"At least, we think those are the rules. It's a bit difficult to know because the Trikru kids don't speak English," he said, "but they've never tried to send any of us off."

Octavia smiled, "You should have come and asked me to translate," she said, and she'd be more than happy to do so.

"All finished," Abby announced, and sure enough, the wound had been cleaned and covered with gauze. Octavia was always impressed with how quickly their Medical Chief worked.

"Go on. Back to _sposbol,_ " Octavia said, cocking her head towards the door. The boy jumped down off the cot, he and his quiet friends needed no more encouragement to return to their game and off they dashed. Octavia thought about following them, but she hung back and turned to Abby. "How's things?" she asked, leaning against the cot and crossing her arms.

"Quiet. Too quiet," came Abby's immediate reply. The pair of them shared a meaningful look and then Abby said, "Chancellor Sinclair tells me you've been feeling a bit lost."

Octavia gave a low growl at finding out she'd been talked about.

"He's worried about you, he doesn't want you to feel unwanted here," Abby offered in response to the noise.

"Yeah," Octavia admitted, "the resident grounder data bank is outgrowing her usefulness. I've tried to think of something else, but to no luck," Octavia said, "It's kind of difficult for a kid who grew up under the floor to know what her full skill set is. Translation and stabbing is all I've got."

Abby breathed out a chuckle at that, "Those are certainly at two opposite ends of the spectrum," she observed, and then her face lit up, "Octavia, you just answered your own predicament two minutes ago," she announced.

Octavia looked back somewhat vacantly and waited for further explanation.

"You might not need to translate for the adults that much anymore, but the children could use your help. They should learn each other's' language," Abby said, "really we need to start thinking about schooling. There's only going to be more children in the future, I was taking out the contraceptive implants a year ago, and Lincoln has been removing more since in my absence. We've got the kids already here, the Trikru kids," the words came out in a rush now as the doctor lost herself in her thoughts.

Octavia raised a hand in the air to try to halt Abby, "Hey, whoah, hey," she said, "so what? Are you suggesting that I start classes?" Octavia wasn't sure if she was excited or terrified of the idea.

Abby gave a less than helpful shrug. "It doesn't have to be you. But, given that we are likely to have a mix of our own and grounder kids here for the foreseeable future, you are uniquely qualified. And I think you're better with children than you realize. I've already heard about how you and Lincoln have been helping out with Lois and Jonathan's twins."

"The twins are a month old. They don't talk back," Octavia said. The only experience she had of any sort of mentor and student relationship was the one she'd shared with Indra. Octavia didn't think in retrospect she was at all an easy student to deal with. And she'd be taking more than just one child under her responsibility.

"Which is why someone with a bit of fire in them needs the job. Give it back to them ten times better," Abby pointed out.

Octavia opened her mouth, paused when she realized that she almost said yes. "Maybe. I'll mull it over," she offered instead. It was no use. Abby was one of the most insightful people Octavia knew, and the doctor looked at her with an unconvinced smirk.

"Hey, Dr. Griffin?" a new voice sounded in the medbay and saved Octavia from having to give a more definitive answer on the spot.

Octavia and Abby both turned and smiled in greeting at Harper.

"Harper! That's right, I asked you to come for your check-up now that I have my equipment back, take a seat," Abby said, pointing to the bed that Octavia was leaning against.

Octavia straightened up and stepped aside. "I'll make myself scarce," she said as Harper jumped onto the bed and took off her jacket. She knew that Harper had come for a routine scan of her hormone implant and didn't want to intrude.

"You don't have to, if you two were talking about something important," Harper said dismissively, and then, "Actually, Doc I was going to say, if you wanted to invite some of the Trikru healers in to watch the check-up, that's cool. They need to see what Skaikru tech can do, right?"

"If you don't mind," Abby said.

"Of course I don't, if it's going to help people like me," Harper replied with a nonchalant shrug, as if her thoughtfulness was nothing at all. "I mean, I don't suppose we know if it's something grounders would care about. But they should at least know that the option will be there once we can start creating chips again. And if it helps even one person..." Harper mused.

"Absolutely," Abby agreed brightly, "Lincoln has already passed on what he knows about the contraceptive and menopausal HRT versions of the chips to them, but we haven't covered permanent E and T transition chips yet." Abby turned her attention towards Octavia with an expectant look on her face.

Octavia rolled her eyes, "I'll go fetch the healers for you," she said, guessing what Abby was after. "I guess headteacher beats playing gofer," she mused.

"Headteacher?" Harper asked curiously.

"Dr. Griffin is trying to talk me into starting a school," Octavia explained

Harper's reaction was an instant bark of laughter, though she quickly caught herself, "I'm sorry, that's not funny, that's actually a pretty good idea. We'll need one soon enough. You know there's a whole group of couples who sit having meals together, and all they discuss is trying for kids. I've overheard some things on my guard rounds."

"Well, people finally have the chance to have big families if they wish," Abby pointed out. She caught Octavia's eye as she spoke, looking apologetic.

Octavia appreciated the gesture. The chance to legally birth more than one child had come rather a lot too late for her mother of course, though she couldn't find it within herself to feel that bitter towards Abby. She really was shedding her youthful anger, for the most part. She thought it must be a wonderful prospect for Abby to no longer find herself in the difficult situation of having to abort surplus pregnancies. Still, a shiver went through Octavia as she realised just how twistedly fortunate she was that, thanks to the nature of her conception, Aurora Blake had opted to conceal her pregnancy and her illegal second child. A faulty implant and one asshole guard looking for favors; a recipe for disaster by any measure. And now, here Octavia stood. Not quite a disaster, nor a total success just yet. She could work on that latter part though.

"I'll need a classroom," Octavia spoke, giving a yes and trying to sound offhand about it. She made to leave doctor and patient to it.

"Excellent," Abby said, "but first, you're needed back here. When you bring the healers, stick around. It might be easier to have these concepts explained to them in their own language. And for that matter, maybe I should be your first student. My trig is quite awful."

Octavia gave an affirmative nod at everything Abby said, trying not to grin at just how mile-a-minute Abby was being. Octavia understood the feeling. Finally having something to do with one's time was always a sure fire way to regain some get up and go. It was the busiest Octavia had felt in weeks.

* * *

Red rock, yellow sand, clear cerulean sky. These three things and nothing else were all that were visible in each direction Murphy looked. He and Emori had decided to spend the day mapping out Mission and the surrounding area. Whilst Emori at least had a few buildings and tents to scope out in the village, Murphy had walked off away from the settlement to see what could be seen and come up totally empty. The barren wasteland before him instilled no small amount of dread. It was clear now that although the door to the guesthouse had not been locked on them, Murphy and Emori were still stuck in a sort of prison. A dry, hot prison that went on for as far as the eye could see, and probably quite a few miles after that too for good measure. There could be no going back on the decision to stay. They'd never even had a choice. Running into the desolation that pressed in on Mission from all sides would surely spell certain death.

Positive that he wasn't likely to come across anything more interesting than an unusually shaped rock if he kept up his walking, Murphy came to a halt and kicked up dust and sand with his foot. He stood absolutely still and stared forward, thinking back to the time when he'd been trekking through the dead zone with Jaha and the dwindling number of other followers. He tried to decide whether the sand there or here was the more offensive shade of yellow. Anger coiled in Murphy's gut. Since he was alone, Murphy decided to indulge himself and he huffed in a long and scratchy breath, which he then immediately exhaled in the sound of a particularly harsh curse word. The exclamation scattered dust particles floating in the air around Murphy, and he willed the sound waves of the curse to travel far over the desert. An echo of desperation that might at last hit another soul and, without them knowing why, fill that person with the same onset of bitterness that now afflicted Murphy.

"Is there a problem?" came a most unexpected voice once Murphy was done. Murphy's face contorted in shock and he jumped clean off the sand. When his feet hit the ground again, Murphy peered around for the source of the voice, and that's when he spied Olli watching him from a natural ledge on a nearby rocky outcrop.

"If you're after water, the old meander is that way," Olli said. Murphy looked off in the direction the boy pointed to. It looked much the same as any other way.

"Maybe you should consider signposts," Murphy muttered. His brow knitted in confusion, "Wait, if there's a river nearby, why not just build closer to it?"

Olli snorted, "It isn't a river anymore. Dried up a long time ago. You have to dig down in the old course and hope for the best. Digging is noisy, so we built Mission out of earshot," he explained in the sort of know-it-all tone that was perfect for his age.

Murphy scowled. He wondered if the place had a single redeeming feature other than the fact that he and Emori were at least stuck in hell together. He thought not. And the sound of the word water had just made him very aware of how uncomfortably dry his mouth felt. Deciding that he needed a distraction, Murphy glanced back up at Olli.

"Mind if I join you on your perch?" he asked.

Olli just shrugged and shuffled to one side of the ledge. Taking that as an invitation, Murphy approached and then pulled himself up onto the outcropping. He settled on the ledge with his legs dangling over the drop, his heels kicking against the rocks. Murphy scanned the horizon again from his new vantage point. He'd walked so far that Mission was still out of view even from here.

"So, the son of the settlement's leader still gets stuck on lookout duty?" Murphy hazarded.

Another snort, "No, I'm just," Olli paused, apparently reluctant to say why he was out here.

"Teenage brooding then? I get that. Used to be an expert at it, let me know if you want tips," Murphy finished for the boy.

"Maybe you should be asking me tips for which direction to run in," Olli answered sharply. He guessed what Murphy was doing out here as easily as Murphy had realised his reasons. "And my one and only tip is; don't run. Without supplies and a horse, you'll die before you ever make it back to the Kongeda. I can't in good conscience let you keep thinking about trying it."

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Good conscience? Those are a rare thing to come by these days. Especially in places like this."

"Places like what?" Olli prompted snappishly.

Murphy held back a groan. He hadn't set out to offend the boy with his less than favorable view of Olli's home. He supposed that even a small, ugly blot of a settlement was an achievement in the scheme of things. "I mean places where people have to utilize all their strength every day to get by, to make themselves a living, a home, in such a harsh landscape." Murphy said, hoping it sounded enough like a compliment.

"This is better than anything I've had before," Olli said resolutely, "and we'd use less strength if that was all my father wanted for us."

Murphy scratched at the rock with a fingernail. He supposed that he should be taking the presented opportunity to do some snooping, but found himself reluctant to go using the boy like that. Murphy clicked his tongue in annoyance at himself. Good conscience. Who needed them?

"Your father seems quite passionate about Mission. About making a home for you," Murphy said.

"Mission isn't a home. It's the means to an end," Olli said. It was exactly what Murphy thought.

"I see," Murphy answered as gently as he could. "You know, I noticed the way you looked at your father, back in the longhouse. Now, I don't want to pry," Murphy lied and nearly hated how easy it was to do it, "but believe me when I say I know a kid who feels neglected when I see one. I know what it's like to look at a parent, and know that they don't see you back."

"How do you?" Olli asked. His voice was innocent and maybe even a little moved. Murphy didn't suppose the kid had had anyone willing to listen to him before, let alone prompt him into sharing. Which is why it was cruelly easy for Murphy to do that now.

"Long story short," Murphy let out, "my Mom blamed me for my Dad's death. Didn't really want to look after me because of that."

Olli's eyes, the same grey as his father's, flashed with sadness. "I just wish I knew," Olli murmured.

"Knew what?"

"If Father really is doing this because he wants me to have a better place to live. Or whether it's just because he misses his life before," Olli revealed. "He used to be a Horsemaster. Plains Riders. Had a whole caste to look after. Then I came along and he chose exile and gave all that up."

"You think that Mission is his way of regaining that status?" Murphy prompted Olli further.

"I don't know. I just can't help but feel that if it was really for me, he'd listen to what I want," Olli answered.

"Adults do stupid things because they think they know better than their kids," Murphy assured, though it came out halfhearted. "What is it you want?"

Olli straightened up at the question and his face fell totally serious. "I want us to just be able to live. This is better than before, when we used to live apart, meeting only to fight over a scrap of land. If we kept our attention on Mission, on turning it into the most sustainable home we can... I don't know. I just wish that my father wasn't so intent on planning revenge against the Kongeda."

Murphy tired not to let fear pass over his face. He did not want to alarm Olli, or make the boy realize that he was really saying far too much. Then again, maybe Kaigo had put his son up to this. Had made Olli tail Murphy out of the village and reveal a fair few secrets in order to gain Murphy's trust. Murphy didn't think so though. The hurt he saw in Olli was simply too genuine. Too familiar.

Murphy considered. "It's wrong, what the Kongeda does. You have every right to be angry," he pointed out, "and every right to not have to struggle out here when there's so much better there."

"I know that," Olli said, "I know we have plenty of cause to want to fight. Or to get others to fight for us where some of us can't. But I haven't asked. Nobody has asked. And nobody has bothered to try a peaceful route first either. Maybe it would fail, I get that they usually do, but surely trying first is better than going right for the most costly solution?"

The boy really was slave to his good conscience. It was almost inspiring. Murphy winced as he gave his reply, "You know, peaceful negotiations normally fail. Or get ignored entirely. Asking nicely just isn't the best way to get yourself heard. Never has been," he stated, telling himself he was simply being realistic.

Olli's face fell noticeably and the boy said nothing back. The fine line between guiding realism and soul-crushing pessimism was even thinner when talking to someone still young and naive.

"I suppose I am struggling to see how Kaigo would ever find the numbers to be more than a nuisance. A nuisance that will quickly get squashed," Murphy said, turning the focus back to Olli's father. And to temper the blow further, "Maybe in this case, talking is the best idea. Nothing ventured, nothing gained is better than everything ventured and lost."

Olli made to reply, but his mouth snapped shut. It seemed he had finally caught himself, realized he'd given away too much of his father's game plan. "My father will ask for an audience with you and your girlfriend this evening," he said instead.

Murphy's ears grew hotter than they already were at hearing someone refer to Emori as his girlfriend. "Why?" he asked.

Olli shrugged, "To give you both your jobs, probably. Everyone in Mission has one."

So Olli hadn't quite been done revealing things after all. If Murphy and Emori were to be given jobs then it was clear. They were expected to be here for the long haul. Agreeing to stay one night in the guesthouse had in fact been agreeing to stay perhaps forever. Names on the dotted line. Binding contract. Done and doomed.

* * *

Raven was on fire. Positively alight with energy and genius. If she did say so herself. The new Engineering Chief had wasted no time in getting down to business, and Raven had spent the best part of the day holed down in the console room, getting the ball rolling for her grand expansion plan for Arkadia. She had started by mining the settlement mainframe for the blueprints to the go-sci ring, the crashed part of the Ark that dominated the settlement's vista. Once she had found the plans, Raven had rigged up a projector so that she could trace a hard copy of the blueprints onto a large sheet of paper. From there, she had made a new version of the blueprints, documenting how the go-sci ring looked now, in its dilapidated state and with the majority of the external covering scorched away. This version of the plans Raven had copied from pictures she'd taken with a camera filched from Mount Weather. When Mount Weather had still existed. Raven briefly gave in to despair as she thought of all that scrap metal, all those other useful things, blown to kingdom come. Still, the go-sci ring was an impressively vast structure, even in it's current state. There was plenty of material to be mined from the wreck.

The trick was knowing where to start deconstructing the circular structure from. People would still need to live and sleep in the usable part of the structure until new homes had been built for them. That's why the blueprints were so important, so that Raven could work out which bits could be removed first and which bits were keeping the structure sound and standing and would have to wait until last. It was easy enough for Raven's brain, but still the task required a lot of concentration, and already, both sketches were covered with arrows and annotations galore.

Raven only hoped that the vision she had in her mind of what Arkadia could grow into would translate well when it came time to conjure up the plans for the improved settlement. Raven smiled to herself as she added another arrow and hastily scrawled some notes, briefly considering if they'd consider renaming the place again in her honor. She'd already made a hasty sketch of what she envisioned first thing that day, hoping that even the roughest idea of what all the legwork was going towards would motivate her enough to get through the slog quickly. It seemed to have worked so far, and Raven fancied herself another dose of inspiration, so she tossed her pencil aside and, after who knew how long, finally glanced up from the blueprints she was annotating to stare almost longingly at the jotter she'd drawn her sketch on.

It was really very rushed work, but the main gist was there. The shape of Arkadia was much the same, a sort of parallelogram dictated by the surrounding treeline. Only Raven had enlarged the space considerably, to utilize all of the clearing. Places for houses and market stalls, for a bigger medical bay because she'd promised. The buildings she knew they'd definitely need had already been noted, represented by rough squares on the sketch. Raven just hoped that everyone else would agree with the logic of how she wanted to organize the new Arkadia. Raven made a grab for her pencil and added another box to the sketch. She labelled it 'outside bar' and wondered how she'd forgotten it in the first place. Then, the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs caught her attention, and Raven glanced over her shoulder to learn the identity of the intruder into her territory.

"Who enters my domain?" Raven let out in a deep voice.

"It is I, oh wise and powerful Engineering Chief," came Monty's reply. Raven grinned happily at his playing along. "I bring offerings of food and water."

That perked Raven up a bit. As was normally the case when one was focused solely on a task, Raven hadn't realised just how hungry she was until Monty had mentioned the word food, and now her stomach growled angrily, its pleas finally heard.

Monty appeared from around the consoles carrying a tray, which he thrust out. "Also I'm not allowed to leave until I've seen you have this. Dr. Griffin's orders," he said.

Raven scoffed at the concern. "I'm good," she lied, and she hoped that Monty couldn't hear her stomach's rumbling protest at her fibs. Still, she was a mechanic. An Ark mechanic. Raven was more than accustomed to skipping meals to make sure that important work was completed on time. Dodgy pressure seals and loose wiring didn't wait for you to eat before killing everyone in the vicinity. In comparison, drawing up a few blueprints and labelling them in pretty colours was child's play. Even if Raven had quite the crick in her neck from spending so long hunched over squares of paper. She flexed her shoulders involuntarily and reached out to take the tray of food from Monty. The tray was laden with a cup of water and a very, very tempting looking sandwich. Raven quickly found some space on her work table to put the tray down and she grabbed for half of the sandwich and set about cramming it into her mouth as efficiently as possible.

"What do you think of this?" Raven asked with a mouthful of bread. She helpfully pointed to her sketch of the new Arkadia to make up for her words coming out in a half-spit, half-mumble.

Monty moved closer to the worktable and picked up the jotter, eyeing over the sketched plan in silence. Raven turned properly on her swivel chair and watched his appraisal keenly. "I like your stick figures," he said at last. Raven had forgotten she'd added those. "They really add something to the piece," he continued.

Raven huffed, her mouth empty again now after some fast chewing. "Well I'm no Clarke," she countered. She grinned as she remembered something else she'd learned in Polis. Maybe she should start keeping a list. "Hey, did you know that she has a special naughty sketchpad? Don't tell her I told you."

Monty snorted. "Did Clarke actually tell you that?" he asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Well no," Raven admitted, "but she didn't deny it either." She waggled her eyebrows as she grabbed the cup of water and started to drink.

"Alright. I guess that's one story I can believe," Monty conceded. He dropped the jotter back onto the table and then quickly thrust his arms up behind his head, flaring out his barely existent hips as he did so. "Clarke! Draw me like one of your Sky girls!" he exclaimed dramatically.

Not expecting Monty's little performance at all, Raven found herself choking on her water. She moved the cup away from her mouth just in time to douse the floor with a spray of liquid. Monty managed to dodge out of the way in time and then as Raven sputtered, he doubled over with laughter. When he righted himself again, his eyes shimmered with tears of amusement.

"At least you didn't spit on your blueprints," he offered, "or anything electrical. That one would be hard to explain to the Chancellor."

"You better fetch a mop or a rag," Raven muttered once she was sure no water had entered her lungs. Her throat burned from her splutters.

"Why? You are the one who caused the mess," Monty argued.

Raven pulled a face, "Because you made me laugh whilst I was drinking. Ergo, your fault."

"Your plans look good," Monty immediately changed the subject away from their circular argument, his face the picture of innocence. "I like how you've kept the original wall in the design."

Raven found herself keen to discuss her ideas with willing ears, and so she also let the debate slide. For now. "Yeah, it's a solid wall, no point wasting it. If we build out around it, then it makes sense to keep the storehouses inside. A sort of inner sanctum to protect the most valuable assets. Like the commissary warehouse back on the Ark. Though hopefully better stocked and less questionably managed," Raven explained.

Monty nodded in understanding, "Can't wait to see the final designs," he said.

"Do you have any special requests for your house? Before I start designing them?" Raven asked. She stuffed more sandwich into her mouth.

Monty considered a moment and then shrugged a negative, "A slide?" he laughed.

Raven rolled her eyes, but still, she grabbed her pencil and added a note to the bottom of her sketch: ' _a slide for Monty'_.

"Honestly, who has even thought about that stuff? Having a house? It'll be a first for all of us. I'll be happy enough if the roof doesn't leak," Monty admitted. Raven had to grin at her friend's humbleness.

"So no special love shack for you an Raion, then?" she teased, for she couldn't help herself when the opportunity had arisen. Placed right at her feet like that.

The change in Monty's mood was instant and he let out a groan, "I'm working on it," he protested, pinching his nose between thumb and forefinger, "I'm teaching him everything I can about pharmaceuticals."

Raven pretended to look impressed, "Filthy," she said, "you do know how to woo them, Monty."

"Well yeah," Monty said, squaring up quite uncharacteristically and tapping his head, "these are hot, right?"

Raven had to admit he had a good point. "Smoking," she agreed, and then she let up a little more, "Do you want me to have words with Harper for you? Reign her in a little?"

Monty shook his head, "No," he said, then "Maybe?" He let out a considerable sigh, "Do you think-" he started, "do you think she's doing this as a way to like, avoid dealing with her own stuff?"

"How'd you mean?" Raven asked with a frown.

Monty shifted to lean back on the worktable, looking thoughtful. "I mean that she's distracting herself with this little 'project'," Monty answered, making finger quotations, "you know, she's trying to get me sorted out in that department so that she doesn't have to think about moving on herself? I don't know, I've never lost someone like that. I mean, there's Dad and Jasper, but that's not the same. So I thought I'd-" Monty trailed off there, as if speaking the words aloud would hurt more than not. It was easy enough to finish his sentence though. ' _Ask someone who has,'_ said the Monty in Raven's mind.

Raven considered Monty's thoughts. They weren't unreasonable. People did weird things when they were grieving. Although there was a stark difference between lashing out at friends and going on quests to find them true love. Raven supposed that spoke volumes about Harper's easygoing temperament compared to her own fiery one. "I guess it might be that," Raven said at last, before the introspection grew uncomfortable.

"So, shouldn't we, I don't know? Talk to her about it?" Monty ventured.

Raven puffed out a breath. That was quite the question. "I think," she replied, "I think, if you really don't mind it, maybe it's better to just let her play this thing out for now. If she is still grieving. Well I mean, you never stop, in a way, but yeah. You have to let people deal with that how they need to deal with it, you know?"

Monty nodded, but he looked somewhat skeptical of Raven's advice. "Yeah, I guess," he said, and he stood properly again, "I'll go find that mop," he said and moved away to leave the room.

"It's on your head!" Raven called after him, though the joke fell as flat as the voice Raven delivered it in.

With a sudden burst of rage at everything she and her friends had endured, Raven sprang off her chair and kicked it skillfully under the table with a booted metal foot. That fact gave her pause, and she found herself looking down at her legs. Her trousers obscured the prosthetic, but there it was, proof of what could be achieved with a little time, a little hope. Raven's eyes flashed with fire, moving back to the blueprints. She sat back down much more calmly and picked up her pencil once more. They'd lost enough. It was time to gain something. Something big and shiny.

* * *

Clarke beamed when she spotted the shadowy outline of Lexa leaning against the starboard railings on the upper deck. The Commander was alone, but for the watchful presence of her two guards, stood in the shadows ready to protect their Commander if necessary. When the guards saw Clarke approaching, they each offered her a respectful nod of the head. Then, seeing that she was headed towards Lexa, they turned their backs to allow the couple their privacy. It had taken a lot of getting used to over the year, the knowledge that there were almost always going to be guards a few paces away from Lexa wherever she went. Tailing her down corridors. Guarding her quarters. They were privy to Lexa's most personal moments, and both the Commander and Clarke trusted their discretion implicitly. Not to would be torturous.

Clarke breezed past the guards, marvelling at how spritely she felt given the late hour. The first day on the ship had been something of a dud, for she and Lexa had battled against the urge to sleep for so long that morning, that when they did make it to their room on the ship, they had ended up sleeping in for most of the day. Whilst it could be seen as a day of exploring and of interacting with the Europan crew wasted, chances to lie-in were few and far between even in peacetime for the Commander and Ambassador, and so they had decided to simply enjoy the novelty. Even Lexa, who was normally up with the sun whether she had matters to attend to or not, had slept well into the late afternoon, and now it had left both of them feeling totally alert past the sunset.

Clarke shivered as she paced over the wooden floor of the top deck, it was a brisk night out on the ocean, and almost pitch black save for the few lights illuminating the deck, the blanket of stars in the inky night sky, and the newly waning moon. Despite the chill, Clarke didn't bother to try fending it off, knowing that the best solution was stood only a few more paces away. Confident that although she gave no indication of the fact, Lexa had indeed heard her approach, Clarke came right up behind Lexa and weaseled her arms around Lexa's waist. As expected, Lexa's body was like a blazing fire in the cool night. It was the nightblood, it did wonders for the metabolism. Clarke raised up on her tiptoes so that she could rest her chin on Lexa's shoulder, and let her hands come to a rest over Lexa's stomach. Despite the fabric between Clarke's hands and her skin, Clarke felt Lexa shudder at her touch.

"You're freezing, niron," Lexa whispered, leaning back into Clarke's embrace, "We should go indoors."

"I'll warm up," Clarke insisted, and sure enough, Lexa's hands moved to cover her own, "besides, look at that sky. It's way too beautiful a night to miss it."

"Like we missed nearly the entire day?" Lexa laughed out. Her breath misted in the air over the railings.

Clarke only hummed skeptically in response, still unconvinced that a day spent sleeping was really a day wasted. The couple fell to silence, each of them enjoying the closeness to the other and the impressive view of the night sky. The sound of the ship pushing on through the water, which was at the moment indistinguishable from the black of the night, was extremely soothing. Clarke nuzzled her cold nose against Lexa's ear.

"Hey," Clarke said after some time, "I never did thank you properly."

"For what, being your personal warmer-upper?" Lexa prompted.

"No. For making an effort with Raven," Clarke explained, "it must have been quite an odd position to put yourself in."

Lexa did not respond right away and Clarke picked her head up off Lexa's shoulder to better see Lexa's face. The Commander was staring pensively out into the darkness, her lovely profile looked troubled.

"It isn't difficult to say the right thing in certain situations," Lexa let out quietly, "I can do that rather well."

Clarke frowned, trying to understand what Lexa was saying. She relinquished her hold on Lexa and moved beside her, leaning her forearm on the railing and twisting herself to face Lexa properly. Without Clarke's hands to warm up, Lexa's hands had also dropped to the railing and her fingers were tapping idly again the wood.

"That must sound awfully disingenuous of me," Lexa said, "I don't mean to be. My wanting to interact with one of your closest friends was genuine. As was the fun I had on the journey. I just think that, for now at least, my ability to know when to open up to people other than yourself stems largely from my experience as a political leader. I don't want that to always be the case." Lexa sighed, "Am I making any sense?" she asked almost meekly, and Lexa finally turned and looked Clarke in the eye with the most earnest expectation upon her face.

Clarke narrowed her eyes, "I guess so," she said, "You're falling back on the skills that make you a good leader, to make you appear to be a good friend?" she ventured. She felt that she understood Lexa more than she could put into words.

"Exactly. Like talking about us to other people, for example. Outwardly, that would appear as though I am being much more open than usual. And yet, our relationship is nothing that people do not know about, and so, am I really divulging anything new about me at all? Better to present the weak spot people already know of, than to risk showing them any others," Lexa offered. "It's just talking the talk."

Clarke nodded, and then she scowled as something Lexa had said stuck, "Hey, weak spot?" she moaned only a little jokingly.

Lexa offered a shrug, "Strong spot," she corrected, and then she reached out and tapped Clarke's face above her lips, "beauty spot."

Clarke sniggered. "Alright, I do understand what you're saying," she assured, "but I think you should stop worrying so much. You might think that you're falling back on your mask, but anyone who wants to make the effort to see through that, will. Just like I did. And I'm sure they'll like what they find behind it."

Lexa looked confused, her head tilting to the side, "How so?"

Clarke almost rolled her eyes, "Lexa," she said, and she closed the distance between them so that she could take Lexa's face into her hands. She decided to say out loud what had been on her mind, "One day, you're going to realize just how lovable you are. That's why I'm not that worried if you and Luna don't manage to patch things up. Because I know you'll make new friends. And continue to strengthen the bonds you've already made. Indra, and Aden. And Raven, soon enough. I'm not surprised at all that you two hit it off once you both decided to look beyond the past. Opening up enough to make these relationships work isn't easy for anyone, babe. Just be confident that if you dare to let who you are, who I see, shine through, you're going to be ok at it. At the very least."

Clarke's thumb caught the first tear that fell down Lexa's cheek. It was followed by more. Clarke looked up into Lexa's shimmering eyes, down to Lexa's parted and slightly trembling lips.

"Clarke," was all that Lexa managed to croak out.

Clarke smirked, "Look," she said, wiping more tears away, "and I haven't even kissed you."

Lexa whined at that, "One day you'll let me forget that."

"Never ever," Clarke shook her head.

"Fine," Lexa admitted defeat, "then you better kiss me now, so that I can pretend I started crying afterwards."

Clarke laughed brightly at that, throwing her head back to guffaw. She wasn't too concerned if Lexa and Luna did not become anything more than friendly acquaintances at all, but she at least lamented what a loss it would be. For Luna.

* * *

Murphy looked to Emori and then to Ari, one of the kidnappers from yesterday and apparently Kaigo's favorite runaround. They were stood outside the entrance to Kaigo's longhouse and awaiting the audience that Olli had forewarned Murphy about. Murphy nearly prayed for something unexpected and unfortunate to occur right then. Nothing too dramatic, just enough to convince Kaigo to delay the show he was no doubt about to put on.

"Heda Kaigo will speak to each of you alone," Ari announced. Murphy did not catch his frown in time and Ari stared at him with a most aggravating smirk upon his face. "What is wrong? Can't you think for yourself?"

Murphy shot the grunt a dirty look, but for once held his tongue. Murphy was starting to accept that sometimes, opening your mouth would just make matters worse. Even if you had a perfect comeback cooked up and it was going to be a travesty to let it go to waste. In this instance, the comeback Murphy's brain had conjured up, were he to say it outloud, wouldn't be particularly refined. In fact, it would have been the very same word he screamed out into the desert earlier that day. This time he settled for repeating the word silently to himself.

Ari opened the door to the longhouse and ushered Murphy inside. He glanced quickly over his shoulder back at Emori, and she rolled her eyes in response. Murphy had recounted everything that Olli had told him to Emori once they had met up again. She was unsurprisingly concerned about the things learned about Mission, and no doubt dreaded her own meeting with the settlement's leader as much as Murphy was dreading his.

Murphy tried to gather his thoughts, to consider a way to approach Kaigo about the alarming things Olli had confessed about his father. Without making it obvious that the boy had been mouthing off, of course. Unfortunately, the longhouse seemed much smaller now that Murphy could see from the moment he stepped inside, and Ari quickly led him over the stone floor and in front of Kaigo's throne before Murphy's mind had chance to whir into gear.

"Murphy!" Kaigo bellowed amicably from where he lounged in his throne. The sound echoed off the walls. The man's casual, near bored, posture could have put Murphy himself to shame and Murphy wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that Kaigo seemed so disinterested. "How are you finding Mission?" Kaigo asked.

"It's impressive," Murphy lied through his teeth, "you've achieved a lot," he added for good measure.

Kaigo's clever eyes surveyed Murphy a moment. "That's good. I'm glad," he said at last.

Murphy couldn't help himself, " Why? Because you already know that Emori and I are stuck here whether we want to be or not?" he tried.

Kaigo chuckled darkly. "You make it sound so unfriendly," he protested.

"Being kept somewhere against your wishes is inherently the opposite of friendly," Murphy countered.

Kaigo sighed. He bent at the waist and leaned his elbows on his knees, then placed his chin on clasped hands. "What would you have me do with you, my friend? You know about Mission. You have access back into to the Kongeda. Do you see my problem?"

Murphy did see the issue, plain as day. Still, he merely shrugged and waited for Kaigo to do the explaining in his own words.

"I can't have you or Emori running to tell that child in Polis that you've encountered an organised band of clanless, can I?" Kaigo asked, even though it wasn't really a question.

"I've seen nothing to suggest you're a threat to the Kongeda. Why would I run and tell on nothing?" Murphy swerved around the truth again. Based on what he had been told, Murphy could guess plenty at how much Kaigo would enjoy attacking the Kongeda in some way.

"Information still has its price," Kaigo spoke lowly. It was a menacing tone that made the room feel like it was vibrating. "And I think you are lying, Murphy."

Murphy grimaced at being found out, though he should have expected that Kaigo would see through him. It was what men like Kaigo were born for. Cutting through crap and leaving even the best con artists wincing.

"Alright," Murphy conceded, "I'll rephrase that." Murphy took a breath before committing fully. "I don't see how you can be a threat to the Kongeda," he spoke clearly, confidently. It had to be genuine or Kaigo would tear him to shreds. And maybe not just with a worded reply. "Even if you gathered up every person in the wastes, I'd wager you'd be no match for the army of the Kongeda. It would be futile to try anything. It would be a slaughter of people that have no right getting slaughtered."

That had Kaigo sitting up straight at last; sitting like a leader should. "You underestimate the power of a few," Kaigo hissed, "there will be no need to go against an entire army. A few rumors here, a frame job there. The Kongeda's foundations have never been strong. It would take very little to turn new allies back into old enemies, to bring Lexa's legacy crumbling down around her."

"You know the last person who tried that, it didn't end too well for them," Murphy said, "if you think the Kongeda is weak, I'm afraid your intel is a little out of date." That suggestion actually brought concern to Kaigo's face, a glancing hint of worry that Murphy's mind grabbed hold of and stored away neatly under things to feel a little smug about. It spurred Murphy on, had him caught up in the verbal battle, "And you're forgetting that the Kongeda has Skaikru technology now. It might not have been used yet, but with enough motive it will be embraced. You'd be out of your depth the moment they discover the real source of any attacks you make."

Kaigo sat even more rigidly. "This is not why you are here," he said.

Murphy almost danced on the spot. A sudden change of topic was as good as hearing a surrender, or as seeing a waving white flag. He stored the victory under things to be extremely smug about. "No, that's right. And now that I've heard from the big man himself that the people of Mission do indeed wish harm upon the Kongeda, I guess I can accept being stuck here a little easier," Murphy drawled.

"You might not always have to be stuck here, Murphy. Earn my trust, and someone like yourself, and Emori, people who have access to Lexa's lands. Well, that would be a useful thing," Kaigo offered. He was clearly trying to breeze past the fact that Murphy had come out on top, but Murphy wasn't the sort to let it slide so easily.

"I'd be a terrible spy. I wouldn't come back," Murphy gave in reply, and then completely without thought, "Hell, based on first impressions, I'd take the City of Light again over playing nice with the likes of you."

"The City of Light?" Kaigo asked immediately, and with great interest. "That's a myth. A legend, a false hope for the clanless to hold onto."

Murphy shook his head, "It wasn't a myth. Not a real place either. But it existed."

"Existed?"

"It's gone," Murphy answered, "Destroyed-" he realised what he was saying and caught himself at last. It was too late.

"Yet another thing they take from us," Kaigo whispered threateningly. It sent icy spears through Murphy's body. And then his body flinched as Kaigo lept out of his throne and spoke again, this time in a deafening, feral scream, "All they do is take from us!"

The switch from quiet to loud, the sudden onset of rage, was deeply unnerving. It was one of the most alarming tantrums Murphy had ever witnessed. He steadied himself and prepared to be spat at, or smacked, or worse. Instead, Kaigo set about pacing, the sound of his breathing filling the longhouse.

"You'll be working down in the meander. Digging for water. Report there at dawn tomorrow morning. Failure to do so will be punished severely," Kaigo spoke again finally, and his strides slowed and then stopped. The man rounded to face Murphy. "Go. Send Emori in after you," he spat.

With that, Ari was back at Murphy's side, having witnessed the whole thing from a corner of the room. Ari motioned his head, but Murphy needed no encouragement to follow him and get out of the longhouse as quickly as possible. Even the rapidly cooling temperature of the desert night outside was welcome compared to the atmosphere in the throne room. Murphy ground his teeth, and now his inward curses were all directed at himself for his poor judgment. He'd gotten lost in his, in the grand scheme of things, meaningless verbal victory, and failed to remember when to keep his mouth shut. He hadn't learned after all.

Ari opened the door and Murphy quickly bustled back outside. Emori was still waiting at the entrance, and the moment his eyes met Emori's, her face fell.

"What did you do?" she asked. Murphy was sure not even stone walls would have prevented her from hearing the noise of Kaigo's outburst, if not the actual words.

Murphy looked back totally shamefaced. "I screwed up," he said.

If Emori had something to say to that, she did not get chance to. With Murphy out of the longhouse, Ari wasted no time in beckoning Emori to take her turn, and she was wise enough not to delay. Murphy watched the door close behind her and hoped that Emori could deal with Kaigo's foul mood. Fouled because of Murphy.

Murphy supposed he could request another audience. Explain properly what the City of Light had been, how it had needed to be destroyed to save a lot of innocent people, how it wasn't cause for hope at all. Murphy knew that there'd be no use in doing that, though. Kaigo would hear only what he wanted to. He was that sort of person. Kaigo had taken the ammunition against the Kongeda and ran screaming with it. He'd only pick out and toss aside any information that did not serve his message. His goals. And then he'd keep running right into the horizon. An horizon that might just end up ablaze with violence much sooner than expected now. Because Murphy had passed Heda Kaigo the damn gasoline.

* * *

Lexa spied Luna hovering out of the corner of her eye. Luna was waiting a few paces away for the Commander to finish speaking to her General. She was doing so patiently enough, but her wavering presence made Lexa prickle. They'd dodged each other so far on the journey, they'd made it to late morning on day two of the voyage, but not anymore. Lexa wondered if it was a social conversation Luna was after, or a business one. She couldn't say which she would prefer.

The Commander let her attention flit back to the General. He had informed Lexa that the army was behaving itself. They were all rather enjoying the ship's amenities. Lexa herself could vouch that the beds were definitely more comfortable than the portable ones in their war tents. And there was decidedly less mud about. Lexa had seen how the warrior's had made themselves at home for herself, for they had all boarded the ship armed to the teeth. Now, whenever Lexa passed one of her warriors, she had noted that many of them were not wearing their main weapons anymore. It was a promising sign. It meant that they felt unthreatened, and they were not looking to be the cause of trouble either. She was thrilled with how her people had so far taken the strange setting in their stride.

"I am glad to hear everyone is settled," Lexa responded to the General's report with a polite, dismissive smile. "If there are any problems, you have my room number. You are to inform me of any incidents no matter the time of day. This is not the sort of environment where issues should be kept waiting."

"Sha, Heda. That is appreciated," the General responded.

"And, General, inform your warriors that I will not expect them to stop and bow every time I pass them on the ship. We'll all get neck strain," Lexa added.

"I will, Heda," the General said, and despite what Lexa had just said, he offered a bow before taking his leave, well aware that their interaction was done for now.

With one matter of business attended to, Lexa turned to face Luna properly and, wanting to show willing, she was the first to start closing the distance between them.

"Captain Luna, is there something I can do for you?" Lexa asked, keeping her tone formal until she knew Luna's intentions. She ignored the bitter voice in her head that whispered ' _when do you ever know those?'._

Luna shrugged, "No. No, I just thought perhaps it was past time for us to talk. I've been thinking about what you said, about being surprised I did not wish to stay longer in Polis. I think maybe in hindsight, I would have liked the chance. Indra updated me on some of the major things I've missed in the Kongeda, but there's plenty of gaps left."

It was a social call then. A social call that could easily verge on prying, but Lexa found herself agreeing with Luna that they'd delayed long enough. "What gaps? Perhaps I can get you up to speed. It won't be as good as seeing things for yourself, but I'll do my best."

"Because that's all you can ever do," Luna replied with a lopsided smile.

Lexa almost returned it, but felt a pang of sadness win out. It was something that Anya used to say to the novitiates. Normally in response to a telling-off from the Fleimkepa. Luna must have noticed Lexa's mood shift, for her own face fell too. Lexa was suddenly aware that the mantle of Commander might not actually hide her emotions as effectively as she would like from Luna, not when Luna had known her for many, many years before Ascension Day.

"I know it isn't the nicest place to start, Lexa, but I would like to offer you my condolences," Luna said. She didn't stipulate for whom she was offering her sorrow, the list was too long by far.

"Thank you," Lexa breathed out. She felt compelled to walk whilst talking, and set off at a brisk pace, expecting Luna to fall into step with her. They started to stroll down the length of the upper deck together, falling silent a while. There were so many things Luna could ask, and yet it seemed like both of them were coming up empty with where to go next.

"Indra tells me that the conclave process has changed quite dramatically," Luna stated at last.

Lexa wasn't surprised that it was the topic Luna had lumped for, it was the one that had most relevance to their experiences growing up together. "Yes, after the Azgeda nightblood slaughtered the novitiates, I knew it would be unlikely to find enough others for the process to be sustainable anymore," Lexa lied easily, and she was fortunate that knowledge of the chip was only divulged to a novitiate upon their success in the conclave, for it meant that Luna remained as in the dark as anyone. Everyone who knew about the chip, Clarke, the few Skaikru that had aided in the destruction of the City of Light, Abby, and Titus, were sworn to secrecy. "I had wanted to change the actual process of the conclave for some time, so it seemed like a sign to bring that change about. The novitiates are now selected through rigorous testing, once they have been identified to show promise in leadership skills by their mentor. And the conclave itself will not be a fight to the death when the next Ascension Day dawns, but another series of trials. Including non-lethal sparring among other challenges to better test each novitiate's understanding of every one of the three pillars."

"You've kept yourself busy," Luna observed lightly, and then, with a rare seriousness in her voice, "I'm, proud feels like a strange word to use considering who you are and who we are to one another, but even so. I'm proud that you've made those changes."

Lexa inclined her head in thanks for the sentiment. "I doubt it would have been as easy, had I not first relieved the Fleimkepa from his position," Lexa mused, "but for now at least, I am confident that the nights of lost sleep trying to think up a new process have not gone to waste. We have two novitiates in the tower already, Marion and Kalvan. They both show promise. I had hoped you would get to meet them. I think you would have gotten a lot from the experience. Seeing them grow up without the weight of the old conclave hanging over their lives-" Lexa trailed off, her words bringing back memories of just how dark a cloud had been cast over her own childhood. Memories that were stronger for Luna's presence beside her.

"That sounds wonderful, Lexa," Luna said, "and I'm sure you're much more popular with the novitiates than Toman ever was."

Lexa felt herself tense when Luna nudged her shoulder with her own. She fought to relax, it was a friendly gesture and nothing more.

"You know, all things considered we turned out alright, didn't we?" Luna asked. Lexa wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

"You mean considering we spent our entire childhoods battling with the knowledge that one day all too soon, we would have to either kill or be killed by the very people we'd grown up with, to win a throne that none of us particularly coveted?" Lexa replied. "Yes. I guess we did."

* * *

 _Luna let out a loud huff as her back hit the packed ground of the sparring circle and knocked the air clean out of her lungs. As her eyes focused, she caught a glimmer of deathly sharp metal catching a ray of sunlight, and then the tip of Lexa's spear came to a halt agonisingly close to her exposed neck. Luna eyed the end of the weapon and then let her eyes track upwards to meet those of the girl who wielded the spear._

" _Nice move," Luna appraised with a grin, and then she barked out a laugh. She could feel the eyes of everyone else in the circle on the sparring duo. Lexa winning these bouts was still a surprising enough occurrence to attract attention, but as Lexa had started to gain strength upon hitting her teens, her wins were becoming more regular._

 _Lexa did not reply to Luna's praise, nor did she show any sign of happiness at her victory. Lexa was never smug. In fact, she was almost humble, though the air of confidence she had in herself was settling ever more comfortably on her shoulders, Luna had observed. Luna watched as Lexa lowered her spear and wiped the sweat off her brow with a gloved hand, which she then offered out to Luna. Luna accepted the offered hand and let the younger girl help to pull her back onto her feet. The first thing Luna did once upright was to glance over her shoulder, trying to get a look at her own back. Sure enough, she was covered in dust from the ground._

" _That's an evening of washing for me," Luna sighed._

 _Lexa looked like she might respond that time, but her mouth snapped shut again as the pair were joined by Titus. His face looked more severe than usual and Luna battled away the urge to shrink in on herself as his narrow gaze swept over the two novitiates, landing squarely on Luna._

" _Do you intend to laugh when defeated in battle, Novitiate Luna?" Titus snapped out, and now Luna did flinch involuntarily and her face fell in shame._

" _No, Fleimkepa," she answered._

" _I should think not. A defeat is nothing to smile about. A defeat means death. Do the dead smile?" Titus asked, eyebrows raised indignantly._

" _Depends," Lexa answered for Luna now, her voice bright, "If they died happy or not."_

 _Luna felt her mouth twist and she choked back more laughter. The amusement was lessened when Titus rounded on Lexa and there was a moment when Luna thought that Lexa's short life might just be passing before the girl's wide eyes. Titus said nothing however, the look he had given was quite enough, and he turned his back to them._

" _Freshen up and get ready for your next bout, the both of you," he instructed over his shoulder, and then he slithered off to oversee the other sparring matches that had resumed since Luna and Lexa had stopped fighting._

 _Luna allowed herself a quiet snort at last and she punched Lexa on the shoulder, "You must have a death wish, sis," she said._

 _Lexa smirked, "That doesn't mean much to us does it? Besides, he wouldn't dare. Not with Anya watching him," she replied lightly._

 _Luna supposed Lexa had a point. She automatically glanced over to the sidelines of the circle, where Anya was watching the bouts. Indra was beside her and the pair of them occasionally spoke to one another, no doubt commenting on the form of the other novitiates. Luna swore she could see the hint of a satisfied smile on Anya's face. It was no secret that Lexa's mentor held enough smugness to make up for Lexa's lack of it. Then again, Indra was equally as pleased whenever Luna came out the victor, though at the moment, her expression was troubled and Luna knew to expect some hard extra tutelage until her winning the dueling lessons became a sure thing once again. If it ever did._

" _I guess that's some consolation. However much he makes us shiver with his glares, I bet baldy feels it twice as much from our mentors," Luna decided._

" _Yeah. We both lucked out," Lexa said._

 _The pair of them moved off side by side to the small table that had been set up at the far end of the sparring circle. Upon it was a jug full of cool water and a cup for each novitiate. Lexa claimed a cup and passed one to Luna and made short work of pouring them both a much needed drink. Luna downed hers in one go, the cold water felt amazing as it hit the back of her parched throat. Training in summer was the worst, she thought._

 _Lexa took small sips of her own drink and the timidness of them somehow made Luna more aware of the differences in their physique. Luna was approaching fifteen and had, for now at least, finished her growth spurts. She'd filled out her frame and started to retain muscle mass thanks to the vigor of the novitiate lifestyle. Thirteen year old Lexa on the other hand, was still erring on petiteness. Even now, as she had started to grow upwards at an almost alarming rate, she retained a certain daintiness when she wasn't dueling or otherwise practicing the appearance of command. Luna had to admit that Lexa's lasting stringiness set her at ease a bit. There was no reason why, with a bit more concentration, she couldn't resume knocking Lexa to the floor every time when they fought. Luna brushed off the feeling of guilt at wanting to beat her best friend that came with her thoughts._

" _I'll probably get an earful at the next lecture," Lexa said after taking another sip. She was referring back to Titus's lack of verbal reaction to her cheek. Lexa beamed widely, showing her teeth. "Why would you be dying happy, Lexa?" she said in a fair imitation of Titus's voice, "It better not be anything to do with what we've talked about before."_

 _Luna almost gave in to the devil on her shoulder that whispered to her that Lexa wouldn't be reprimanded at all because she was definitely Titus's favorite. She instead grinned back at Lexa and laughed out, "So what would have you dying with a smile on your face?" she asked, and then, before Lexa could respond, "Don't tell me. Let me have a guess. How about getting to-" Luna did not finish her sentence verbally, rather she raised both hands in the air and made a gesture that approximated grabbing something. It had Lexa spluttering on her drink and Lexa dropped her cup back onto the table to free up her hands so that she could give Luna an almost gentle shove._

" _Luna!" Lexa exclaimed, and then, for neither of them wanted to attract attention to themselves, she said much more quietly, "Jok yu."_

" _Wow, right on the first try. Is there a prize?" Luna teased._

 _Lexa rolled her eyes._

" _I get it, you're shy. I've told you, you should just ask me. I'll put in a good word for you to whoever. Isn't there a girl in the market you were telling me about? I don't properly remember, I was trying to sleep through your fawning," Luna kept digging with a hardly innocent smile on her face. She was that sort of person._

" _The blacksmith's apprentice," Lexa confirmed immediately, and then she grimaced in a way that suggested that she had spoken quite without thinking. A rarity indeed for Lexa. "You're not to talk to her," she added hastily, her tone surprisingly chilling for someone so young and otherwise non-threatening._

" _Well if you won't untie your tongue long enough to say something other than '_ hello, I need my dagger sharpening, please' _, we're not going to get anywhere," Luna argued._

 _Lexa scoffed, "There's no point in getting anywhere, is there?" she nearly snapped._

" _Don't tell me you of all people have actually started paying attention to Tight-arse's drivel," Luna said, and her heart actually shuddered at the thought of either of the two of them internalizing the nonsense that the Fleimkepa tried to pass as wisdom. Not when their young minds had seen past it for so long already._

" _Of course not," Lexa protested immediately, "You know I've perfected the open-eyed napping technique whenever the topic veers towards_ 'hodnes laik kwelness'," _Lexa said nonchalantly._

 _Luna made to say something equally as insulting towards Titus back, but the way Lexa's face fell into a heavy frown stopped her sniding short._

" _But that doesn't change the fact that, well, chances are I'll not live many more years," Lexa stated, as if she was still making normal conversation. Then again, it was true what she was saying, and that was what normal was for the novitiates. "The skirmishes on the Azgeda border are getting more frequent. Everyone knows that war is coming, just like everyone knows that Heda Toman is unlikely to live to see the end of that war," Lexa said, "Even if I do think that the Fleimkepa is wrong, I couldn't bring myself to act on any feelings like that. It wouldn't be fair to."_

 _If Lexa was to be summed up in anyway, passion for a sense of fairness would be high on the list of ways to do it. Luna felt her own expression fall to mirror Lexa's as she took in the unshakable wisdom in what Lexa was saying. All lightness from their banter had vanished by that one inescapable fact of what they were training for today. Of what they were training for every day of their lives._

" _We should get back to it," Luna stated simply, calling time on their respite. If one could call it that now. A nod from Lexa was the only response she got._

 _The light atmosphere did not return at all for the duration of that day. Later on, once sparring had finished and the evening meal had been eaten, Luna found herself sobbing alone in a quiet corner of the tower. She often retreated to that very corner, to do just that, whenever the weight of what she knew was fast approaching became too much. And now, with Lexa's victories in the duels becoming more frequent, Luna hated to admit it, but she was terrified. Her victory in the conclave was not a sure thing anymore. Lexa had always been the better one at theoretical lessons, but the duels, Luna had had those, and they were what mattered given the nature of the conclave. Luna couldn't tell herself if she wept out of fear of death, or out of relief that she might not be the definite victor after all when the time came. She simply wept. And this time, for the first time ever, Lexa of all people found Luna weeping in her secret corner. The two friends, sisters, looked at one another with nothing but understanding in their eyes. And then, Lexa had walked off and, to Luna's thanks, pretended like she'd not seen anything at all._

* * *

Lexa was surprised when she could not walk any further in a straight line, for she and Luna had covered the whole length of the ship and come upon the stern quite without Lexa realizing how they'd managed the impressive stroll. They'd talked the entire time, reminiscing about their lives together, Lexa occasionally offering anecdotes of the present to remark on how much some things had changed since then and now. Unsurprisingly, Luna had declined to offer her own tales about her present life in Europa, still keeping things close to her chest. For once, it had not perturbed Lexa. The memories they shared had been enough to make it a pleasant meeting between old friends. Lexa just had to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut that reminded her that one could only harp on the past for so long before they would run out of shared experiences to talk about. Hopefully by that time, the ship would be making port in Europa and the answers would be set before Lexa's own eyes, and she'd no longer have to make do with the closemouthed nature of Luna any longer. In theory, at least.

The wind conjured by the ship's movement whipped Lexa's unbraided hair over her shoulders and into her face as she stared out at the water left in their wake, the ship's propellers churning the ocean surface into a frenzy of white froth. She swept her hair back out of the way and took to resting her forearms on the railings. Luna followed suite and after their lengthy conversation, the pair of them were content to enjoy the moment of silence. Lexa battled with the urge to simply ask Luna a question about the place she now called home, just to see what would happen if she did. She almost dared, when Lexa felt a familiar sensation creep through her body. Lexa instinctively turned her head over her shoulder, and sure enough, her eyes fell on the shape of Clarke, who had appeared on the deck with sketchpad and charcoal in hand.

Clarke hung back, but was just close enough for Lexa to make out her expression clearly. Lexa could read what Clarke's eyes were asking her as if Clarke had come over and said the words aloud; " _Do you need me to rescue you?"_ she asked silently. Lexa offered Clarke a smile and an almost there shake of the head. Satisfied, Clarke shot her a wink and walked away, no doubt to pick a good spot to draw from. Lexa allowed herself an inward smile that Clarke currently felt inspired enough by the journey to want to capture memories from it, if that was what she intended to draw.

"I saw you two last night, huddling together up on deck," Luna spoke, and Lexa turned forward again at the sound of Luna's voice. "I wasn't spying, I was just in the wheel room," Luna clarified, and then softly, "you seem very happy."

"I am," Lexa confirmed, the simple reply was dizzying in its complexity. Neither she nor Luna had been brought up to expect to be able to answer positively to that sort of observation.

"You look after it," Luna said, and that made Lexa's face twist with confusion, for it seemed an odd request for Luna to make. "It's precious to anyone, but more so to people like us. People who've gone against the odds. Don't you think?" Luna asked.

Lexa nodded thoughtfully, "I guess so," she whispered back, and then she smiled as a new memory formed in her mind. "Hey, do you remember the first time we pranked Titus?"

Luna laughed, "I do. After the lesson where he went livid with us both for arguing that if compassion is one of the pillars of command, then by definition, love must be considered a strength."

"You started it," Lexa remembered, "I had to back you up. Gave you someone to talk to when he had us running laps around the city as punishment."

"Do you remember the rain? And the mud? I don't think I warmed up properly for a whole week after that," Luna answered, and the two of them fell back into easy conversation. It was a conversation devoid of forward progress, but it made Lexa almost feel like she was back in the presence of her friend, her sister. It was enough for now.


	5. Enemy of My Enemy

**5\. Enemy of My Enemy**

 _Ten Days Later_

* * *

Bellamy's eyes scanned the landscape of the grounder village as it came into view, a short ways down the dirt path that Gavriel was driving the two horses over, the beasts carrying a food laden cart and their passengers behind them. Though the site of Gavriel's home had been moved since the original one was poisoned by the villagers, the appearance of it was much the same. It was a tiny, unremarkable settlement; a circle of scrap metal buildings with no protective wall. As the cart drew closer, Bellamy couldn't help but to think just how easy it would have been to slaughter such a small, barely protected society, had the village not been tipped off by his sister at the oncoming invasion. Bellamy gulped as he was faced with a stark reminder of how close he had skirted to decimating this village, out of nothing but a misguided sense of entitlement to land and misplaced hatred that had been so easily manipulated by a man like Pike.

Gavriel skillfully slowed the horses as they moved between the buildings to the small area that served as the village's center of commerce. A few traders were already set up in the circle, and the smell of freshly baked bread hit Bellamy's nostrils. The sweet smell could not distract him from his thoughts, however. Bellamy usually avoided coming to the village, leaving the duty to others. Still he had to take his turn sometimes to make it a little more fair. The cart came to a dead stop and Gavriel immediately jumped from the driver's side of the wooden transport. Bellamy watched the young man pat the nearest horse's rump before Gavriel moved off to announce their arrival to Chief Reina. Bellamy remained on the cart, sitting stiffly on the small bench. Now he was in the very middle of the settlement, he found it difficult to look up, already picturing the suspicious glances being thrown in his direction by the residents without even having to catch them do it.

There were times when Bellamy thought he was moving forward, when he truly believed he was making things right by himself. He kept his head down and focused on his work at the farm. He tried not to spend too much time wondering what Octavia, or his friends, were doing together back in Arkadia. He accepted how and why he had ended up where he had. But then sometimes, most especially when something reminded him so painfully of the dark path he had taken himself down, Bellamy found himself giving into despair. He knew that farming was important, he knew that by helping to feed his people, he was aiding them immeasurably. Still, Bellamy was a protector. He'd been driven to look out for those he cared about since he was a boy. Even before Octavia came along, he'd been driven to do all he could to make sure his Mom was happy, regardless of how successful he'd been whilst at such a tender age. And something inside Bellamy just would not settle and accept that a life spent growing food was a life that truly did serve his people. It was too detached, the results weren't as clear cut as defending Skaikru as a guard, or as a warrior. Bellamy knew that this fragmentation was partly his own fault. Though he had been exiled indefinitely from entering Polis, he was still welcome to come and go from Arkadia as he pleased. He could go to the settlement and see for himself how the produce grown on the farms fed the settlement. Bellamy had not yet found the courage to return. If he couldn't bear to look up and face the judgement of strangers in this grounder village, how could he bear the risk of getting the same and worse from his own people?

"You helping me unload this cart?" Gavriel's ever-deepening voice sounded and startled Bellamy. He hadn't noticed his return to the transport.

"That's why I'm here," Bellamy muttered, and at last, he too disembarked from the cart. He kept his head down to the ground as he rounded to the back.

WIthout waiting to be prompted further, Bellamy hoisted himself into the back of the cart and took a firm hold of a burlap sack filled to the brim with potatoes, hefting its weight and passing it down.

"Chof," Gavriel said, moving quickly to relieve Bellamy of the load.

Bellamy watched as Gavriel turned about and waddled the heavy sack to the produce stall a few paces away, saw the storekeeper engage in lively conversation with Gavriel, gratitude for the fresh stock plain on the man's portly face. The view was then blocked out by a much less friendly one, as another villager came forward to take another sack of vegetables. Bellamy didn't avert his eyes in time, and the two men locked gazes. The barely-contained loathing the grounder felt for Bellamy's presence was clear and the fact that the man was trying to hide it only made Bellamy bristle more. Bellamy turned away quickly, throwing his sneer at a sack of carrots rather than the villager. He passed the carrots over, and then Gavriel returned for his next load. But before Gavriel moved off with it, the boy paused and frowned at Bellamy.

"What is it?" Gavriel asked, in a tone that suggested he already knew what Bellamy's problem was.

"Nothing, just want to get back, is all," Bellamy answered dismissively, letting go of the sack in the hopes that doing so would give Gavriel the hint not to push. Instead, Gavriel kept the load aloft and turned his head over his shoulder, as if assessing the expressions of the villagers.

"You can't blame them for not wanting you here," Gavriel said, "Just do your job and we can go."

"Are they like this when Bryan comes?" Bellamy asked then, silently cursing himself for wanting to compare himself to a friend, knowing that if Gavriel answered differently, he would feel envious of Bryan.

"They used to be. Not as much anymore," Gavriel stated, "Trikru are slow to trust and quick to suspect. And usually with good reason."

Since the pair of them had delayed so long, the other villager returned to the cart looking impatient, and so Gavriel passed the sack he was dawdling with onto the man. Bellamy assumed that meant that Gavriel wasn't done speaking and he waited with a frown.

"Bryan has proven himself willing to change by coming here and facing that suspicion head on. You avoid coming here, just like you avoid going home. And so that distrust festers rather than eases. People assume you are helping us because you are being made to, not because you want to," Gavriel whispered hurriedly.

Bellamy felt his jaw tighten as anger shot through him. He drew in a long breath. "And do you think the same as them? That I can't be trusted?" he asked.

Gavriel didn't respond immediately, instead stalling by motioning that he was ready to be passed another sack from the cart. Bellamy practically threw the last sack of cabbages at Gavriel, causing one to fall from the top of the bag and land with a dull thud on the muddy ground.

"I understand them," Gavriel answered evasively as he looked down judgmentally at the dropped cabbage, "and I think you need to ask yourself whether _you_ think the same of yourself as they do. Because as long as you see yourself as the man who tried to attack an unarmed village, as the man who slaughtered two hundred and ninety nine sleeping warriors sent to protect him and his people, then you will always be that man. You can spend your whole life fighting against him, pushing him back. But fighting requires staying still and facing the enemy. To change, you must turn around and leave him behind."

Bellamy tried to sort through what Gavriel was saying. As far as he was concerned, turning his back on the monster he knew he could be only left himself open to letting the darkness take him back in surprise. He supposed that was the chance one had to take to escape. "Do all Trikru speak in riddles?" Bellamy scoffed.

Gavriel only shrugged in response.

"I'm going to walk back to the farm," Bellamy announced, jumping from the cart to the ground.

"You sure?" Gavriel asked. "It's a fair walk..."

Bellamy gave his own shrug. He needed the time alone. Being in the village had set him too close to the edge, too close to really lashing out, either verbally or worse. He could feel himself tottering, threatening to fall into rage as he let the distrust being levelled at him take over him. And Gavriel was right, the suspicion being thrown Bellamy's way by the villagers was akin to a glancing blow, when compared with the deep rooted lack of faith Bellamy still felt in himself.

With nothing left to say to Gavriel, Bellamy turned and began to stalk away, his hands balled into fists. He felt close to tears, close to screaming, and worst of all, close to simply giving in and letting the demons he spent so much energy fighting back consume him. He could do it. He could turn around now, and start throwing punches. Get in as many good hits, wipe away as many of those suspicious glances as he could before the villagers overpowered him and brought his rage to an end one way or another. Instead, Bellamy ground his teeth and kept walking, hoping that, by the time he made it back to the farm, he would be calm enough to face the Trikru with whom he worked.

* * *

Clarke leaned her body out over the railings at the prow of the ship, as if putting herself those few inches closer to land might make them get there quicker. The call that the coast of Europa was in sight had gone up twenty minutes ago, and in the time since, everyone on the ship who did not have a specific station to attend to had made their way up to the deck, a huge crowd that filled the space like the first time they had boarded the ship. Clarke momentarily glanced over her shoulder and watched with amusement at the rows and rows of Kongeda warriors, all of them trying to look as unthreatening as possible despite being so heavily armed, at the urgings of both their General and the Commander herself. Though Clarke attempted to locate Lexa, the Commander was lost among the crowd, no doubt making final inspections so that they could make the best impression possible to whoever came to meet them once the ship docked.

Satisfied that Lexa would be back beside her when all matters were attended to, Clarke turned her eyes forward again, squinting them to try to make more sense of the rather vague shape of the coast. The ship was approaching at speed though, and soon enough Clarke could make out the distinct beige of the beach, the green of grassy hillocks beyond. A few moments later and she could start to identify individual waves as they rolled up to the shore. It was at that point that Clarke sensed movement close by, and Lexa's figure appeared beside her. Clarke turned to find Lexa standing rigidly, hands clasped behind her back and stance wide, the perfect image of a Commander leading her people on a new adventure. Clarke instinctively straightened up to mimic the formality of Lexa's pose, taking her hands off the railings and letting them fall neutrally at her sides instead.

"Is everyone sorted back there?" Clarke asked, peering up into Lexa's face as they stood side by side.

Lexa gave a nod in response, adding, "I think everyone is quite keen to be on stable ground once more." Lexa spoke with a near smile that suggested that she shared her people's sentiment.

Although the ship had offered luxuries that the Kongeda had likely never encountered before, it seemed that the warriors' deep connections to the land would not be shaken by lavish comforts. For the Kongeda warriors, the prospect of returning to the familiarity of campfires and tents was no doubt a relief. Clarke had to admit that she was secretly impressed with how well the force had conducted itself. Other than the odd late night, drink-fueled sparring matches out on deck, the warriors had behaved themselves in the highly unfamiliar setting.

Clarke had probably felt most at home in the close, metallic confines of the ship, though it even had the Ark beat in some areas. The showers in the ensuite bathrooms were perhaps the most memorable novelty for Clarke, for though they'd had them back on the Ark, water was always too scarce for them to provide little more than a dribble and one was likely to fare better with a bowl and cloth. Despite these details, Clarke also felt excited to be back on land, though she suspected it was more out of an avid curiosity and need to explore. Over the long journey, where there was little to look at other than water of various shades, restlessness had settled itself inside her and outmatched her worries.

Clarke was eager for new things to see and her mind seemed to be a dizzying mirage of images as she tried to imagine what Europan society might look like. How it's architecture, it's people, it's art and culture would compare to what Clarke had encountered in the Kongeda and its thirteen distinct clans. That Luna had told them so little no longer filled Clarke with unease, for there was simply no room for it left in her brain as it tried it's best to guess all of the answers for itself.

Clarke felt a glancing touch against her arm, the grounding sweep of Lexa's fingers. Clarke thought that her current excitement must be quite palpable and that Lexa was silently asking her to catch and measure herself before the ship docked. Clarke felt her toes twitching in her boots as she tried to measure her breathing, reigning her wandering thoughts in.

"You're excited now?" Lexa ventured in a quiet whisper. Despite the low volume, Clarke could hear Lexa's amusement at her excitable mood.

"I am. I really am," Clarke said, "Are you?"

As Clarke asked the question, the ship noticeably began to slow, making the deck below her feet shudder.

"Yes," Lexa offered in reply, "and no." Lexa looked thoughtful, eyes narrow and lips draw together in a pout, and although that was always a lovely sight to behold, it made Clarke frown.

"Lexa, talk to me," Clarke urged, realising that they might have little time left for candid speculation and not knowing when their next private moment might arise.

"I worry that the success of the journey here has put us all a little too at ease," Lexa said, "we've been given an awful lot of time to stand about and imagine all the wonderful things we might be about to discover," she said, as if commenting indirectly on Clarke's wayward thinking.

"You don't want to be disappointed," Clarke said, trying not to smirk at just how much she thought Lexa sounded like herself right then. "Then we make sure we won't be. Whatever we find, we make it a success. We pick Europa up and shake it until we can call this trip worthwhile if we have to."

Lexa allowed herself a snort and Clarke felt her pulse quicken as Lexa turned her face to look at her properly, Lexa's head shaking just slightly and light returning to her expression. "Ai hod yu in, Clarke kom Skaikru," Lexa murmured.

Clarke battled with the urge to give Lexa a kiss in response, remembering the rather large audience behind them. She did wonder idly if the warriors would politely avert their eyes, or instead opt to cheer them on. "I love you too," Clarke replied.

The sound of footsteps drawing close to the couple brought an end to their little moment and Clarke turned to find Luna approaching.

"Hope I'm not interrupting too much, but we'll be docked in the next five minutes and I get the impression you are all keen to be off the ship," Luna delivered with an air of command in her voice that almost rivaled Lexa's.

The announcement caught Clarke by surprise and she immediately turned to face forwards again and sure enough, whilst she and Lexa had been distracted, the shore had at last come into perfect clarity. The beach was small, and there was a pier even longer than the one back in Floukru territory jutting out past the waves, though this one had been constructed more recently out of scrap metal and looked much more sturdy. The top of the beach was sheer cliff face, the land on top looked grassy but Clarke could see little else now that they'd gotten so close.

"Thank you Captain, we should make ourselves ready to disembark," Lexa was saying and Clarke pivoted around to rejoin the conversation just as the ship, crawling along now, drew up parallel to the pier and came for the first time in a week, to a total stop.

Clarke fell into step with Lexa as Luna ushered them through the crowd to where members of her crew were already busy lowering the ramp that would lead down to the pier. Once it was in place, and Lexa's entourage had emerged from the crowd to take their proper places behind the Commander, Clarke watched as Luna motioned her hand,

"Commander Lexa, allow me to welcome you to Europa," she said with a smile.

Lexa inclined her head and took the first step onto the ramp, Clarke following just behind. They descended onto the metal pier, the entourage, and all of the warriors following behind, an echo of boots on metal until at last, Clarke's boots sank into the first patch of Europan sand. Clarke fought off the peculiar feeling at being on a surface that wasn't moving, at least not in a way that the human body was aware of, and together, Lexa and Clarke moved up the beach and found a stairway carved into the rock that would lead them up to the top of the cliff face and to whatever waited beyond. Clarke was grateful that Lexa seemed to be in no mood to wait for an invitation, and both of them started up the steps. Clarke counted just shy of a hundred steps when they reached the top and took in their first proper view of Europa. The coastal land was gloomy and windswept, all tall grasses and patches of wildflowers. It would have been picturesque were it not such a shock. The land was totally barren. Devoid of any sign of a settlement in any direction for as far as the eye could see. Clarke and Lexa shared an equally troubled look.

"We should move a little further inland to the woods," Luna sounded a little short of breath, as though she'd hurried to catch up with them. She pointed off in the distance to where trees sprang up to disturb the grasslands. "Your army can make camp there where they'll be sheltered from the coastal wind," Luna said.

Clarke observed the land again as the wind whipped her hair into a frenzy around her face. The air was chilling and damp, already it seemed to have permeated through her pants and Clarke shivered.

"No welcoming committee?" Lexa asked Luna, voice as cool as the ocean wind. Clearly she found the emptiness that greeted them as bewildering as Clarke, if not downright insulting.

"Apologies, no," Luna let out, "Europa proper is much farther inland. We must journey west, up into the hills. I'm afraid that it's another day of travelling before you'll meet anyone else, though I hope you'll accept the company of myself and my crew."

"They're not staying with the ship?" Clarke asked, voice carrying on the wind.

"Why? Have your army been hiding that they know how to commandeer a vessel all along?" Luna asked, jokingly rather than as a slight. "My crew have their homes and families to return to inland. They will disembark shortly and catch us up before we-" Luna stopped there.

Clarke's eyes narrowed, "Before we what?"

"Before we make it to shelter. We should get there by sundown, if we hurry," Luna said.

Clarke glanced to Lexa and saw that the Commander was doing very little to hide her annoyance at not being told that there would be more journeying to undertake after the one across the ocean. Lexa's green eyes burned and it was clear she was actively having to prevent herself from pacing along the grassy cliff edge.

By now, the army had started to reach the top of the stairway, and Clarke looked and saw the same confusion on each of their faces at the nearly hostile emptiness of their first view of Europa.

"I will inform my General to lead the army to the woodland and to make camp there, and we can make our own way west from here," Lexa stated, "It will be quicker that way."

Clarke simply stood and watched as Lexa moved off to give her orders, her official entourage following dutifully behind, honor bound to tail their Commander where Clarke was not. Clarke felt her suspicions raise as she realised that Luna had given absolutely no indication that anyone would even be left behind to watch over the army, that it sounded like they really were being abandoned to their own devices in the woods. The thought didn't sit at all right, and Clarke pointedly avoided looking in Luna's direction so the Captain would not notice Clarke's efforts at trying to unravel the answers. Clarke wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill and aimed a frown of deep concentration into the unremarkable distance.

It would be very difficult to pick Europa up and shake it, if there was nothing even here to pick up, Clarke thought. And then she caught herself and reasoned that this couldn't be it. Europa had been a victim of the nuclear war too, Clarke reminded herself. Society didn't always exist where you might expect it to anymore, for the most logical land to dwell on had already been developed long ago and since destroyed and made unlivable. It was only a matter of a bit more travelling, and at last Clarke and the Kongeda would learn how exactly the people of Europa had chosen to carve out a living on the ground.

* * *

Kaigo dropped down from the ledge of the bank into the old river bed. The surface he landed on was cracked and crumbly underfoot. Already his ears were ringing with the sounds of metal against dry rock, the sound of his people digging for water. The clanging echoed through the heat, somehow adding to the feeling of utter dryness. Once, the spot on which Kaigo now stood would have been covered by rapidly flowing water, as the large and meandering river once twisted its way through the landscape.

The thought of such a vast quantity of water might have made Kaigo's head spin, were it not for the fact that he'd seen plenty of the precious resource in his time, back when he had been welcome in the Kongeda, welcome in his birthplace and home. The plains of Ingranrona territory teemed with rivers and lakes, the bodies of water divided among the territory of the four riding castes that called that land theirs. The rivers were paths to follow on the yearly migration, the lakes places to settle, where both people and beasts could be well watered, with no concern for shortages.

Now, Kaigo ground his boots down against the rock bed, bringing up dust. He surveyed the water diggers, the strength of their bodies fighting against the heat, fighting to get by, and Kaigo knew that he would treasure even one of the most dangerous lakes of his homeland, one haunted by water monsters or plagued by lethal and unpredictable whirlpools, over the nothingness that he and his people claimed as theirs. As Kaigo began to move forward, towards the middle of the bed, each step was accompanied by a dry crunch underneath the metallic cacophony of work, a crunch that Kaigo felt more than heard. Every day he would complete this kind of ritual, coming to the old _Misri_ River, to check up on his people.

With not a trace of the overground water left, the only thing left to do was to dig down, in the hopes of finding underground channels, or more likely, a pathetically shallow well of water. It was both the hardest and most important type of work that had to be done in Mission, and so the duty of water digging fell to just about every Mission resident who was physically able to do it. The water was collected and used in all the ways water had to be used to keep a settlement alive, so that everyone had a fighting chance out here.

Kaigo inclined his head this way and that as he passed his workers, trusting that they would approach him if they had anything pertinent to mention. The diggers stopped only to bow back in respect, before carrying on. Kaigo was always pleased to see how seriously Mission's residents took the work. It was difficult, that was certain, but everyone understood it was a necessity and they applied themselves accordingly. Kaigo found himself pausing to watch one muscular woman, who was attacking her patch of rock bed with particular ferocity. Kaigo recognised it immediately as the passion of success.

"Much luck today, Kori?" Kaigo asked.

Kori halted her shovelling, wiping her brow over as she inclined her head in greeting to her leader. "Some, Heda Kaigo," she confirmed. Her words were gasped out, her cheeks red and puffy. An expression that was mirrored on everyone's faces. "Two new wells found, the second of which looks to have a decent three or four buckets full inside," Kori reported.

Kaigo gave a nod in satisfaction and turned, leaving Kori to get back to digging whilst the adrenaline still coursed through her body. She was well known to Kaigo for being an excellent worker, and he wasn't surprised by her success today at all. Kori had come to Mission two months ago, with her infant brother, Jeriko. The boy had been born without legs and the family had chosen exile to the wastes over leaving the boy to die. It was a common narrative, only Kori's family had been Sankru, one of the clans where choosing exile wasn't even legally an option. The family had been caught in their escape attempt and hunted down. Kori had made it out with her brother. The parents had not.

Thinking how that was just one of many stories of how people ended up in the wastes, one of many stories of families torn apart by the Kongeda's laws, made Kaigo's blood boil. The Kongeda couldn't be allowed to get away with all the pain it had caused. And there it lay, right on their border, vast and fertile lands, while Kaigo and Mission and every other clanless grounder were left to squander in the wastes. It was this knowledge that motivated Kaigo far beyond achieving sustainability for Mission.

Kaigo knew that the creation of Mission was a huge feat. The first permanent clanless settlement with a functioning government. He understood why most of Mission's people were content with the idea of making the settlement a home, for it was for some the first time they could feel like they belonged somewhere, and for others, a promise of a new home away from the ones they left behind. But for Kaigo, Mission wasn't enough, it had never been the ultimate goal. It couldn't be, not when there were better lands out there. All they needed to do was to bide their time, keep gaining strength and numbers, and then they could take the fight back to the Kongeda. No longer would they have to spend all day digging through rock just to get three or four pails of water to subsist on.

Kaigo realised that he was practically marching by now, and so he stopped and cleared his throat gently at the side of Betris, a woman who had been born blind, the noise communicating to her to his identity.

"Heda Kaigo, we've had a good day," Betris said, identifying Kaigo's noise. Her smile suggested that she'd heard him approaching moments ago, and would have been aware enough that it was Kaigo had he made no noise.

"Kori has told me," Kaigo answered and then he glanced about, "Hoopa?" he asked, enquiring the whereabouts of Betris' work companion.

"He was coughing up a fit, I told him I'd wait until he drank a little water. I would have gone with him, only he has a good feeling about this very spot, and we didn't want to lose it," Betris replied, her foot tapping against the ground, her body leaning it's weight on her shovel.

Kaigo gave a hum to communicate that he understood, though it still felt a little strange to see one without the other. Hoopa had limb deficiency in both arms, and so working together, he and Betris made a formidable team.

"Farewell, Betris," Kaigo spoke, leaving her to guard the patch of rock that hopefully hid another success.

It was the sort of unity shown by Betris and Hoopa, by all of the residents working together as a cohesive whole, that was integral to Mission's success, and later it would be important to the success of their campaign against the Kongeda. That's why Kaigo found it so important to check for any unrest, and that is why he now made a point of turning his attention to Mission's newest residents.

Murphy and Emori had behaved themselves well enough over the past ten days. They had picked up the technique of digging easy enough and worked well together, despite the fact that Kaigo got the distinct impression that both of them weren't at all used to hard graft. Still, as Kaigo approached, his instincts couldn't help but to pick up on the negative energy that seemed to roll from the pair, like waves of heat in the air. Kaigo knew that they resented him for putting them to this task. He knew that they saw the work more as indentured service than as a tough necessity of life in Mission. That negativity was dangerous, for it could easily spread and cause dissent in the ranks.

Kaigo knew exactly how that narrative would go if he allowed it to play out. Murphy and Emori would blame him for putting them to work. Others would note their resentment and become dissatisfied too, but rather than stopping to think and remember why they were here in the first place, instead the crowd would follow the leaders and point the blame at Kaigo as well. The Kongeda's more distant wrongdoings would be totally forgotten in the wake of finding someone much closer and therefore much easier to blame. The settlement would crumble, and they would never achieve Kaigo's ultimate vision of reclaiming the Kongeda. They would doom themselves to living out the rest of their lives in even worse conditions than now. Knowing all this was why Kaigo had decided not to share his future plans with anyone except for his inner circle yet. He needed to allow time for a strong sense of community to rise within Mission, to make those bonds more difficult to break when faced with even greater challenges than the daily fight to survive. But then Murphy and Emori had arrived and they had seen right through to his real goals. They'd forced Kaigo's hands and the time to come clean with Mission was close.

Kaigo growled as he kept watching Murphy and Emori, angered further as he spotted Olli making a beeline for the pair. His son often helped the diggers, but this was different. Kaigo watched as Olli and Murphy erupted into lively conversation, Murphy's work slowing as a result. The _Skaion_ had grown far too familiar with Kaigo's son, and Kaigo worried what ideas he might be putting into Olli's head, what thoughts he might be encouraging. Kaigo knew that Olli had trouble accepting the need for Mission to one day move against the Kongeda. Kaigo put it down to Olli's boyish naivety, a trait he would grow out of soon enough. As he matured, Olli would understand Kaigo's thinking, and together they would ensure a plentiful future for their people. For now, it was time for the boy's lessons, and Kaigo quit watching surreptitiously and headed directly for Olli and his _companions_ , trying not to look too pleased about having an excuse to split them up.

* * *

Monty tapped his heel against the metal wall, the metallic noise the only sound in the otherwise deserted corridor. His hands wrung at his sides and Monty fought off the urge to make himself scarce before the person he was currently waiting for arrived. He'd told himself over and over again, and a few times more on top of that for posterity, that he was making the right call. That the words bubbling up inside his chest needed to be let out.

The sound of footsteps drawing close robbed Monty of his final chance to dart away, and so he puffed out a breath and kicked himself off the wall, to stand squarely in the middle of the corridor that led down to the prison. The footsteps grew louder and louder, and then Harper appeared from round the far corner, the Guard Lieutenant making her usual rounds through Arkadia's interior. Monty saw as Harper spotted him, her face showing happiness, before twisting into confusion as she comprehended what an unlikely place it was to happen across someone.

"Monty?" Harper greeted, brow creased, "what are you doing down here?"

"I was waiting for you, actually," Monty said, and he fell into step beside Harper, the pair of them treading down the corridor until they reached the door to the cell room. Although they were both well aware that the room was empty at the moment, Monty watched as Harper hit the door console and the door slid open. They stepped inside in unison.

"Well look at that," Harper sang out, "still empty." Harper made a show of checking inside the cells, peering round every corner, "Not even a bug."

Monty smiled, though he quickly caught himself and fell serious again. He felt the need to collect himself, as he began to worry, now that he had Harper with him, that this would all seem a little too much like an ambush. He hadn't intended it to read that way, it was just the easiest way he could think of for them to be left alone along enough for him to speak aloud the highly personal thoughts on his mind.

"What is it you wanted, bud?" Harper asked now, her attention falling squarely on her unexpected companion now that the room check had been completed.

Monty made a noise as he tried to respond, the words he'd practiced suddenly reluctant to leave his throat. He knew he must look quite odd with his mouth left agape and so he grasped for some alternate topic, his words coming out in a rush, "So, my pain killers have passed all of the tests," he croaked out awkwardly, "Dr Griffin is already considering prescribing them to Macallan for his migraines."

"That's great," Harper let out, her frown deepening. She looked utterly bewildered. "He's been getting them a lot lately, which sucks. I miss those tinkling ivories in the rec room," Harper said, clearly trying to humor Monty, before she gave a sigh. "Is there a reason why you needed to tell me this now?" she asked, "We would have seen each other at lunch."

Monty nodded that he understood that, and inwardly cursed himself. Now he would have to try to get the conversation round to the topic he'd wanted to speak about, and he'd gone and made it more difficult. "You know Raion helped me a lot. I have been teaching him, since you-"

"Oh, I see. Wanted to come and thank me personally did you?" Harper cut in, eyes widening in comprehension. "Well, there's no need to, Monty. Really. Seeing you happy is reward enough."

The sentiment made Monty wince more than blush, for it only added to his profound feeling that he was in the process of making a very poor call. Still, with his way in set firmly in place, Monty continued, "Actually, now that I seem to have things well in hand," Monty said and then he groaned at Harper's raised eyebrows, "Not like that!" he moaned, let out a breath and tried again, "Hell with it. Harper, I wanted to talk with you in private because I'm kind of worried about you," Monty delivered, his words growing hushed as the reluctance to get them out nearly took over.

The atmosphere in the prison darkened quickly enough that Monty felt a little nauseous. He observed a multitude of emotions pass over Harper's face until her expression settled back to confusion.

"Worried about me?" she repeated back, "Why?"

"Because," Monty started, and he had to talk over the voice in his head telling him to stop. The voice he could hear sounded distinctly like Raven. "I think that maybe you've been distracting yourself from, you know, dealing with your own grief. You've been paying so much attention to trying to set me up, I don't want to think you are neglecting yourself, stalling the process of making yourself better."

"You really had to do this whilst I'm on duty?" Harper immediately shouted out, teeth bared as Monty's words struck her and sank in. She turned away from Monty and he watched his friend's back, noting painfully the way that Harper's body shook with emotion. "I don't see how my grief is any of your business, Monty," Harper whispered. The angry hiss of her voice cut through Monty right back.

"You're my friend, Harper," Monty let out in response, the words sounding as limp as his body felt. "We've been through a hell of a lot together, losing people, what the mountain did to us. We've been through way too much. I nearly didn't talk to you about this, but I decided to," Monty dared to take a step forward, but stopped when he saw Harper tense up, "because I don't want you to be left behind, while the rest of us try to move on. I don't want you to think that you have to go through it alone, that your scars aren't as visible to me as mine are to you."

A loud sniff punctuated the tense air, and Harper relented a little, turning her head over her shoulder to reveal a tear streaked face. The sight wounded Monty, but he had to believe now that he'd done the right thing. For Harper to have such a visceral reaction to his words, he had to have been close to the mark. And besides that, Monty was done with letting his friends make him feel guilty for bothering to look out for them. Luckily, Harper was a much bigger person than most, and Monty held back a sigh of relief as Harper's red faced frown gave way to the smallest smile.

"Maybe you've got a point," Harper admitted meekly. "There's so much going on inside me, Monty. I don't even know where to begin."

Monty took another step forward, and when Harper did not react this time, he closed the distance between them and reached out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Nobody does. But we figure it out between us. You've got me, Harper. And Raven too. The whole gang is behind you, I know it. Make sure you know you've got friends who care about you. And make sure that you remember to look after yourself first," Monty broke off and gave a glum sigh. "That sounds like a total conflict of interests, it doesn't make sense," he admitted.

Harper gave a noise that might have been a laugh, or maybe another sniff. "I don't think it's supposed to make sense, Monty," she offered.

Monty guessed Harper had a point, "It's time for you to concentrate on your recovery," he tried, "and however you choose to do that, whether you want to try the support groups, or something else, we've got your back, yeah?"

Monty felt as Harper turned under his hand, and then she was facing him again and wrapping him up in a tight hug. Monty squeezed his friend back, grateful for the affection and the reassurance that Harper had seen through his clumsiness to the intentions to help underneath.

"Yeah," Harper breathed out as she released Monty. She reached up to wipe her streaky face with both hands. "Monty, could you, could you give me a moment, please?" she asked.

Monty gave a nod, "Sure," he said, and he turned and made his way out of the cell room without another word. He assumed Harper wanted the time to make herself look presentable enough to carry on with her rounds. But, if Harper was angrier, or more upset with him than she was willing to show, Monty would accept that. Sometimes there was no right course of action, some things were beyond logical reasoning. All that Monty knew was that sometimes a friendly push was necessary, especially when faced with a hurdle as challenging as just putting one figurative foot in front of the other and moving on. Monty snorted as he reached the end of the corridor, perhaps inappropriately amused at the idea of Harper collecting herself and eventually following him out of the prison. It just seemed quite appropriate.

* * *

Olli moved gracefully, a quick one-two step that had him off the floor and up on top of the wooden table that ran along the left wall of the longhouse. The glint of Kaigo's longsword followed close behind and Olli jumped, his feet clearing the sweeping weapon in the nick of time.

"Good!" Kaigo boomed out the praise as he brought his blade up and around his head in a spin. A move designed to build momentum.

Olli tracked the weapon carefully, not letting his father's encouragement distract him from the task. Olli waited for Kaigo to bring the blade arcing forward again, and he planted his feet, using all the strength of his torso to block the incoming attack with his own sword, his one-handed grip straining, but holding firm long enough for Olli to turn the sword block to his advantage. He kept at the block, using his current height advantage to press the attack, until Olli's father was forced to step back as the swords slipped from deadlock and Olli's swept low past Kaigo's chest.

Though Olli hoped he'd never need to put his sparring abilities to practical use, he had to admit to enjoying the thrill of his training, especially when they practiced in close quarters. It had taken him time to develop a style that suited him, Olli training his body for speed and agility to make up for his not being able to use a shield, or a strong two-handed grip. It was getting to the stage now where his training with Kaigo was not a lesson, so much as genuine practice between two skilled swordsmen, both intent on honing and retaining their skill. If only Kaigo sparred for the fun of it too.

Olli frowned as he leaped down from the table, landing surely and advancing on his father. He lanced his sword forward in a vertical strike, and once Kaigo moved to block, Olli quickly checked his grip and morphed fluidly into a more diagonal cut. Kaigo's block missed the sudden change of direction and Olli turned his sword to its flat side just in time, as it checked his father's forearm. The bout won, both of them lowered their weapons and regarded each other a while as they caught their breaths.

"Good, Olli. Very good," Kaigo said, but then, "but I know you can do better. There were several chances to counter before that, that you did not capitalise on. Why?" he asked.

Olli scowled at being caught out, though he had learned as a small boy that nothing got past his father. Well, nothing like that at least. "I wasn't fully focused on the match at first," Olli admitted. There was no use trying to deflect."

Kaigo nodded. "You were distracted. You wanted to be elsewhere," he stated.

Olli found that fact harder to confirm, though it rang true. He'd noted his Father's barely restrained glee at coming between Olli and his new friends back at the river bed. Olli knew that Kaigo didn't like him spending time with Murphy and Emori. Olli couldn't help himself though, he was fascinated by the new arrivals to Mission. He was trying to understand how two people could care so little for the issues that dictated Olli's very being. He didn't know whether he envied or pitied their careless view of the world, all he did know was that he was thankful to have someone to talk to, two people so far removed from Kaigo's agenda that it didn't feel too dangerous for Olli to open his mouth. He was sure his Father didn't see it like that.

"Olli," Kaigo said his son's name sternly, resheathing his sword to make it especially clear that he expected to have his son's full attention. "Those outsiders are dangerous. I wouldn't tell you not to engage them, but I hope you have the intelligence to show caution around them."

Olli tried not to gulp, feeling as though he might well have voiced his thoughts aloud for how well Kaigo seemed to hear them. It made Olli bitter to think that Kaigo could read him so easily now, but refused to see what really mattered. He refused to see what Olli wanted him to.

"I do, Father," Olli responded. It felt rote and unconvincing.

"I know you're young, and you're still struggling to find your place in our vision for our people, our future. And people like that will only make it harder for you to settle," Kaigo said.

That was the problem, right there. Kaigo thought that it was a lack of faith that Olli suffered from, not the total conscientious objection to his father's path that Olli actually battled with every day. He'd tried to correct his father before, to no avail, but figured it wouldn't hurt to try again.

"I know my place, Father," Olli spoke. "I know what I want for our people."

Kaigo didn't respond immediately, and Olli found himself thinking about Murphy's own story about his childhood, and how he saw Olli's situation as similar to his own. Olli wasn't sure he agreed with the assessment. From what Murphy had said, his mother had willfully neglected him after the death of Murphy's father. Olli and Kaigo had their problems, but Olli would never accuse his father of the same thing. If anything, Kaigo was overbearing.

Even when Olli saw similarities between the way Murphy had lost his father and how his own mother had died, he couldn't stand and honestly claim that Kaigo had ever made Olli feel to blame. Olli's mother had escaped Ingranrona alongside Kaigo, their newborn son in tow. She had died in the wastes a year later, too underfed to fight off what should have been little more than a winter shiver. The opportunity for Kaigo to place the blame for this turn of events on Olli's birth was there, but Kaigo had never taken it.

"Then why do you look so troubled, my son?" Kaigo asked, "Why do you let things distract you?"

The questioning caught Olli by surprise. He wondered if Kaigo perceiving Murphy and Emori's arrival as a threat of losing his son's support had finally been the tipping point, had finally forced Kaigo to step back and truly see Olli for the first time in years. Olli nearly tripped over his words as he rushed to get them out, "Because we don't have the same vision, Father. I wish you would see that. You want to move against the Kongeda, but I believe that doing so will only bring us more suffering. We don't have the numbers, Father. They will obliterate us all, and then they'll move against the other exiled people for good measure. Innocent people who won't even know what they haven't done to fuel the Kongeda's vengeance."

"Tell me honestly, did Murphy put you up to saying this?" Kaigo asked, his voice cool.

Olli shook his head vigorously. "No. Father, I've said this before, I swear. Murphy and Emori have nothing to do with this," Olli promised. His heart hammered in his chest at such an unexpected breakthrough.

Kaigo considered Olli in silence again. His expression stung Olli as though it was stripping the skin from his bones and looking right into the essence of him.

"You've grown up, son," Kaigo managed at last, realisation striking across his face. "And you are right to be worried about our numbers, I am too. But as the leader of Mission, I cannot show that worry, you understand?" Kaigo said, "My people must not be distracted from wanting the best for Mission. And now as the time draws near to broaden our horizons, they need to be united in wanting what's best for themselves beyond this patch of rock we have claimed. So I cannot let my doubts show."

"You can show them to me, Father," Olli answered softly, feeling quite peculiar at the thought of offering guidance to Kaigo.

There was a beat where Olli thought Kaigo might be about to embrace him, or ask for more of Olli's wisdom. The moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of the door to the longhouse opening, to reveal a stricken-looking Ari. Olli found himself flinching even before Kaigo exploded, Olli foreseeing his Father's outburst of rage even before it happened.

"Ari, how dare you interrupt my son's lessons! I was clear that the longhouse is out of bounds until we are finished," Kaigo cawed out, rounding on his heel and stalking over to the intruder.

"Apologies, Heda Kaigo," Ari groveled immediately. Olli watched how low Ari bowed, clearly fearful of Kaigo's anger, but even more shaken by something else, "But there is something you need to see outside," Ari continued, "it's an army, Kaigo! There's-"

The rest of Ari's explanation for those troubling words was cut off by the sound of the door opening again, this time with such force that the wood swung right round on its hinges and slammed against the wall. The noise was followed soon upon by the entrance of a stranger, a woman so imposing in stature that Olli's very first glance at her sent shivers through his body. If the stranger had the same effect on his father, Kaigo did well not to show it. Olli watched, rooted to the spot, as Kaigo quickly darted around Ari, pulling out his long sword and brandishing it in front of the woman.

"You will tell me who you are this instant, or your head will roll, Kongeda scum," Kaigo spat at the woman.

Olli observed how easily the woman shrugged off Kaigo's attempt at intimidation. If anything, she looked amused by it. Olli took in her appearance. Her tough metal and leather armor was like nothing he'd seen before. And although he had assumed the same as his Father, that word of Mission's existence had somehow reached the ears of Polis and an army had be sent to deal with the settlement, now he wasn't sure. Olli had been taught how to identify the members of every clan of the Kongeda, by dress, warpaint, tattoo style. This woman possessed no markers of any clan. In that case, she had to be clanless like them, but that didn't make Olli relax. There was no paint on the woman's face, and no tats, but there was plenty of dangerous intent.

"That would be a shame," the woman spoke, her gonasleng understandable, but strangely intoned. "Your bodyguard assured me that we have plenty to discuss, Heda Kaigo, and I think I'll require my head for that," she said. Olli noted that the woman had her right hand poised over her own sword, the weapon sheathed at her hip.

Olli looked to Ari at the revelation that he'd already spoken to the woman. More likely he'd had to beg for his life and had brought her to Kaigo in a hurry.

"If you have been sent by the Kongeda, then we have nothing to talk about," Kaigo responded, not lowering his sword.

"The Kongeda? What is that?" the stranger asked.

Olli's mouth fell open and he quickly snapped it back shut. He heard his father laugh nervously. It did sound like a rather ridiculous bluff.

"You're in my longhouse," Kaigo said. "You answer me first. Who are you?"

The woman smiled as if she quite enjoyed the chance to introduce herself. "My name is General Mearas. I am the leader of the Western Exodus. I have led my people across the continent and intend to find them a new home, now ours has failed us, as it was foretold it would. Only I assume now that the East is already claimed. By this _Kongeda,_ I take it."

Olli tried to process what he was hearing, found himself moving forward towards General Mearas, "You came across the wastes?" he asked, curiosity making him forget his place.

Mearas regarded him and gave a nod. "Yes. From the West coast of the continent. What was left of it. This journey has been our goal for one hundred years. The time had come to make it, the responsibility fell on my shoulders."

Olli went to speak again, but was beaten to it by Kaigo. "Ari told me you have an army?" he asked.

"The Exodus _is_ an army. Two thousand strong. Every adult of fighting age and capability. We never assumed that finding a new home would be easy. We made the journey with the intention of doing whatever we must to make our new home, and that includes fighting for it," General Mearas said.

 _Two thousand warriors._ Olli closed his eyes, knowing what was coming. After he'd gotten so close to making his Father stop and think for a moment.

"General Mearas, it is no accident that you ended up crossing paths with Mission before you made it to the Kongeda's borders," Kaigo stated, his voice alight with all the possibilities that had just presented themselves to him, but his mind trained on just one. "We have much to discuss, indeed. Our shared goal first among them. The destruction of the Kongeda."

* * *

Miller sighed as he felt Bryan settle himself more firmly against his chest. Miller's hand found the mop of sandy hair atop Bryan's head, stroking idly, the simple gesture hardly covering the immense gratitude Miller felt for being in his boyfriend's presence. Bryan responded to the contact with a hum and his fingers flexed against the fabric of Miller's sleeping shirt.

Bryan had arrived first thing that morning after staying at the farm for longer than usual to oversee the planting of new fields. It had been over a week since they'd seen one another and the pair had retreated to the sanctuary of Miller's quarters, just to hold one another under the covers so they might pretend they'd woken up in each other's arms. Normally, things were the other way around, with Bryan waking at sunrise every day to drive to the farmland and returning home at night. The fact made Miller frown.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Miller asked, disrupting the silence.

"You could put a little more effort into the head rub," Bryan answered. Miller didn't have to see Bryan's face to imagine the smirk upon it.

Miller snorted in response and waited for Bryan to enjoy his own joke. A few seconds passed and then there was shuffling as Bryan picked his head up, his smirk widening to a smile as their eyes met.

"One day I'll convince you about this peace and quiet thing, Nate," Bryan said. "Now what's bothering you?"

"The usual," Miller admitted. He bit his lip. "Every time you're gone so long, it makes me wonder why I insist on us staying in Arkadia. After we spent so much time apart, I'm delaying us settling down even longer. To what? Lead a guard outfit that hasn't had a major incident in nearly a year."

"Nate, we've talked about this before. I don't mind the traveling, and stints as long as this one was are rare," Bryan pointed out. He didn't sound annoyed but maybe a little weary of how often these things troubled Miller and got in the way of them enjoying what time they did have together. "You love your job. I know you do."

"I love you more, Bryan," Miller stated firmly. His hand moved from atop Bryan's head to find the back of his neck, and Miller caressed the skin there, urging Bryan to listen. "I love the idea of being with you on the farm more. Peace and quiet, like you said."

Bryan leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, "Love you back," he whispered.

"And it isn't just you at the farm all day anymore," Miller continued, "Dad's spending more time there than here now."

Bryan laughed at that, "We both knew David would grow bored of retirement eventually. He's practically named himself Chief of the farmland guards. And I don't think anyone is keen to say otherwise."

Miller grinned, hardly surprised at the news of his Dad succumbing to the call of duty yet again. He supposed he and Miller Senior were more alike than he liked to let on. "So there is a place for me to be a guard on the farm," Miller pointed out in justification. "Or maybe I could take early retirement. Build us a house and then be a kept man." That earned him a swat on the chest.

"Nate," Bryan said, rolling onto his own back now and forcing Miller to shift onto his side or be forced off the small mattress. Miller found himself hoping that Raven's plans for their new dwellings included double beds. "You know I can't make this decision for you. And you know I don't like discussing it because I feel like I can't be objective. Of course I'd like to move permanently to the farm with you. I think I'm allowed to be selfish about it. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm going to support whatever choice you make. You're worth it."

"Am I?" Miller said with a raised brow. Still craving physical contact whilst he had the chance for it, Miller's hand found and burrowed its way under the hem of Bryan's vest, finding warm stomach muscles and tickling.

"On second thoughts," Bryan replied, voice shaking as he fought off laughter. He halted the tickling by putting his hand over Miller's.

"We can wait until we've finished the alterations to Arkadia. By then, the whole way the settlement will run will have to change. I can hand over to Harper, and we'll move to the farm," Miller said without waiting for further prompting from Bryan.

"It sounds like you've made your choice, Nate," Bryan responded. "As long as you are sure it's what you want. You might not have said it outloud, but I think I know why staying and keeping your new position means so much to you."

"Really?" Miller said, trying to sound surprised. Part of the reason why he and Bryan had always worked so well was because Bryan could see through his reserved nature. Miller wasn't one to talk about himself, and with Bryan he didn't feel obliged to.

"I think it makes you feel like you can make a difference. Make sure that Arkadia doesn't go the same way the Ark did. You hated the divisions among the people. The us and them. Rebelled against your own family because you felt so passionately about it. But now you get to do something legitimate about it. And it appeals to your infuriatingly sweet nature," Bryan ended the assessment on a characteristically cheeky note.

He was right of course. Miller was equal parts proud and stunned that he'd ended up in such an important position of trust, in a position he had always been expected to achieve before he'd assumedly ruined his chances by falling to thievery. Miller would never forget how he had disappointed his family when he was caught stealing black market goods for Nygel, the crooked commissary steward and self-appointed Queen of the Ark's shadier underbelly. But nor could he feel remorse for it. If the class divisions among the residents on the Ark hadn't gotten so wide, there would have been no call for a black market to exist, let alone thrive as it had under Nygel's hand.

When Miller had caught one Harper McIntyre in the process of breaking into a medicine cabinet, hoping to filch enough loot to earn a few extra coins for her blue collar family to eat comfortably for a change, he'd barely hesitated before agreeing to cover her back. Any thought of running to tell Dad had disappeared near instantaneously, swept away by the throes of teenage rebellion and the drive to do what Miller perceived as the right thing. After that first hit, the thrill had kept him in the business long enough to get very proficient at lockpicking, but not good enough to avoid getting caught. It caused quite a scandal. All of this, Bryan was well aware of, for they'd been together long before Miller ended up in the Sky Box. And when it came to light, Bryan hadn't needed Miller to explain himself, just like now. Miller found himself laughing as he remembered exactly what Bryan's response to finding out his boyfriend was a thief had been.

"What do you think?" Miller said, noting Bryan's confusion at his sudden laughing. "Reckon your Robin Hood can cut it as a farmer?"

Bryan's eyes creased in that lovely way they always did as he laughed too. "Damn, I haven't called you that in ages," he mused, "not since visiting you in the box." Bryan quieted and looked thoughtful a moment. "I think you'd cut it as a scarecrow," he said at last.

"Float you," Miller huffed, and he rolled himself on top of Bryan before dropping his head for a brief kiss that neither of them wanted to be all that brief. Still, Miller moved away and opened his eyes. "And thank you," Miller whispered.

"For what?" Bryan asked, head tilting against the pillow.

"For waiting for our happy ending just a little longer." Miller sighed as Bryan cupped his face.

"Who says I'm waiting?" Bryan said, pulling Miller down. Miller guessed he was right. There might be more times where they were apart than together for now. But that didn't change the fact that they had each other.

* * *

Her old friend had not been lying when she had warned Lexa and her entourage that there was still a fair trek left to make, and the Commander wished now that she'd asked about the viability of transporting horses across the ocean along with the army. Though the climb into the murky coastal hills was growing ever steeper, the beasts of the Kongeda would have required much less effort to carry Lexa over the terrain than her own legs. Since she had expected a formal welcome the moment the ship made port, Lexa had of course dressed appropriately in her full regalia, and now her spaulder was growing cumbersome and making her shoulder burn. Still, she would not pause to take it off, not under the eyes of her entourage. Though they were trusted members of her household all, the Commander would not undignify herself with such an obvious show of weariness. Even if her entourage felt much the same fatigue, perhaps worse, she had to present herself as above them, and above the ordinary responses of the human body to such a journey.

"Not much farther now," Luna spoke, her breath puffing out a cloud in the damp mist that thickened the higher they climbed.

Lexa glanced at Luna from where she followed less than a step behind the Captain. Lexa felt a certain amount of satisfaction at noticing how red in the face Luna was. Even in her much lighter clothes, she was clearly exerting herself more than most on the trek. She suddenly gave off the air of having gone soft, the tiredness evident in her flushed cheeks and audible breathing a long way from the rigid presence of command Luna had wielded on the ship. Since Luna was leading Lexa and her people right into the unknown, it was a little comforting to see.

"It had to be built out of the way you see, both the avoid detection and to dodge the destruction of the war," Luna explained, though without giving any indication to the actual subject of her musings.

Lexa flexed her jaw and let it slide, though she did find her attention drifting from Luna to her right hand side, and Lexa met Clarke's eyes for a brief but meaningful second of shared exasperation. Not wanting to appear so obvious, Lexa quickly followed up by checking over her shoulder, her gaze roaming over the six figures that made up her small delegation: the two guards that usually kept watch over Lexa's personal quarters, two stewards, and two handmaids, though with Lexa's proclivity for doing things for herself _and_ with Clarke also accompanying her, their presence was ceremonial more than it was practical.

Satisfied that she'd covered her less than professional glance at Clarke, and that her entourage all seemed well enough, Lexa turned her attention to the front again. It was for the best, as the grassy terrain had long since given way to dirt and rock, not all of it stable underfoot thanks to the rain-soaked nature of the ground. Lexa supposed she had to be thankful they'd arrived after the showers were done.

Lexa noted the way that Luna's pace was quickening, suggesting that they were indeed close to wherever they were headed. Though Lexa walked faster to keep up with Luna, the unremarkable nature of their current surroundings troubled the Commander. They were getting close to something. But what? If it were a settlement, surely there would be signs by now. A road. People coming and going. The sounds of life carrying on the wind that whistled through and over the hills. There was nothing, nothing but the sounds of nature and the crunch of boots on rock as the small group walked.

"Around here," Luna announced, when they came suddenly to a particularly rocky patch that to Lexa's eyes, looked deliberately placed rather than naturally occurring.

Lexa observed carefully the way that Luna squeezed herself through a gap in the outcroppings, making sure to pay attention to the way Luna moved her body to avoid the jagged edges of the rock. Once Luna was through to the other side, Lexa approached the rocky entrance too, not wanting to dither. She did stop at the feeling of a hand squeezing against her forearm, however, and Lexa turned and regarded Clarke quizzically.

"May we meet again?" Clarke offered with a smile on her face.

Lexa smirked, "You mean in mere moments, on the other side of these rocks?"

Clarke shrugged, "Thought a little fanfare might be appropriate," she explained.

Though she knew they had four curious pairs of eyes on them, and two pairs that were beyond curiosity by now, Lexa offered Clarke a wink. "May we meet again," she replied, playing along, and then she pushed herself nimbly through the same gap Luna had disappeared through, her head low to keep from hitting it and to mind her step.

Lexa righted herself and picked up her head, and she immediately felt bile rise up in her throat as a cruel wave of fear struck her right in the gut, the sensation nearly making her fall to her knees. Lexa stood firm on legs that trembled, and she cursed inwardly at the joke she had just shared with Clarke seconds ago, it's humor now thoroughly lost and replaced by the bitter sting of incredible, awful irony.

"So, what's behind the big ro-" Clarke's voice was light as she emerged from the gap.

"Clarke," Lexa interrupted her niron with a terse click, knowing that doing so would immediately call Clarke's attention to everything that was wrong with what lay before them.

Clarke was beside her in an instant, her own eyes staring forward, taking in the same horror that Lexa was shooting daggers at.

The rocky outcropping had certainly been placed deliberately to conceal something. A huge and rusting metal door, circular in shape and hiding an entrance to what had to be an underground society. It wasn't eerily similar to a door that Lexa and Clarke had stood outside together before - it was near identical - though Lexa couldn't be sure now if that was her fear seeing things for her.

"Clarke, I can't. I can't go in there," Lexa whispered shakily, feeling her body struggling and failing to keep the terror at bay.

She didn't even hear Clarke's response. Her ears had by now set to ringing and then, in a sensation that felt like going into a trance when she'd had the chip, Lexa wasn't standing at the entrance to Europa anymore, but at the entrance to Mount Weather. She was back in that moment, looking the woman she had fallen for right in the eyes as Lexa, no, the Commander, tore both of their hearts from their chests and trampled them into the dirt. She was betraying Clarke all over again. She was turning her back on what Lexa had known in that hopeless moment, when she'd seen the heartbreak plain as day in Clarke's face, had been her second chance at a life filled with love. The visions of the past left the Lexa of the present utterly frozen, and then the memories faded at the sound of more people joining the Commander, Luna and Clarke before the door. Lexa's entourage. They were watching.

Lexa's fear gave way to an icy rage all in an instant, her mask snapping firmly over her face as the Commander grappled with the need to appear infallibly strong in front of her people. Lexa choked on a large gulp, fought the need to shed tears, and instead she found herself snarling. Her feet directed her, the world falling away again, not giving way to memories this time, but simply erasing everything from Lexa's plane of existence except two things; herself, and the woman who had led her to the door.

"Explain," Lexa spat out, as her body invaded Luna's personal space, her presence looming where Luna's visibly shrunk back. As it should. Automatically, Lexa raised a single hand to the air, telling her guards to stay back and allow her to deal with this outrage herself.

"Europa is, for the most part, an underground society, Commander," Luna said now. Words that should have been spoken long ago, before Luna had ever herded them onto that monstrous ship.

Lexa's eyes flashed over Luna's face, the appearance of the woman who was once her friend mixing now with more memories. Lexa remembered speaking to Emerson up on the ridge above the door to Mount Weather. She remembered the wicked glint of victory in his gaze as he'd spelled out to her how all of her prisoners were waiting right behind the door to be freed if she took the deal. Or waiting to be slaughtered by mounted guns if she refused. Though Lexa did not see anything like that same glint in Luna's familiar eyes, it did not matter. Lexa was incensed beyond reason, otherwise she would be terrified beyond action.

"And you led myself and my people here without once considering it necessary to mention that," Lexa hissed. "What's behind the door, Luna? Guns? Soldiers? What about my army? Are they to be attacked unawares by your apparently non-combatant crew?" When Lexa got no response but a gulp from Luna, she growled, "Answer me!" The Commander's right hand twitched, desperate to reach for her dagger or her sword, but she resisted. A true Commander did not need to be armed for a person to be afraid of them. And Luna was afraid.

"There's just a tunnel behind the door, Lexa," Luna responded quietly, "a tunnel, and then an electric train that will take us the rest of the way to Chambre Centrale. The seat of government in Europa. And I swear to you, my crew are right behind us and your army safe where we directed them to go," Luna said, punctuating her words with a shaking hand.

"All you have done so far is lie, Luna. Directly or by omission," Lexa replied. "Why should I trust you now?"

"Because you know why I did this," Luna said. "You and I both know what this looks like. What it reminds us of. And if I'd told you that immediately, you would never have agreed to take this journey with me." Luna broke eye contact as Lexa loomed even closer to her. "Beja, sis," Luna muttered. Her pleading brought on another snarl.

"Lexa! Lexa!"

Lexa's vision went blurry as the sound of her name being said over and over by an insistent voice pulled her back into her full surroundings, the call grounding her and piercing through the red mist.

"Lexa, please, listen to me," Clarke nearly begged.

Lexa blinked and became aware that Clarke was pulling on her sleeve, and she whipped around until the view of Luna was replaced by the far more comforting sight of Clarke's face. Lexa took in the furrow in Clarke's brow, the flare of her nostrils, her parted lips, letting every detail sink in and bring her back and then Lexa met Clarke's gaze and, at last, she listened.

"Come here," Clarke directed, pulling Lexa's sleeve more forcefully, taking them both to a far nook of the rock circle, away from the door.

Lexa let herself be led, making sure not to observe the reactions of her entourage to the turn of events, hoping that they'd have the decency to avert their eyes until she could regain some semblance of calm.

"Clarke, this has to be a trap," Lexa spoke with certainty once the pair were as alone as you could be when trapped in a rocky circle with seven other people.

"I don't think so, Lex," Clarke answered with a shake of the head. "It's an unpleasant surprise, that's for sure. And one it would have been nice to be forewarned about. But what can we do about it?"

Lexa nearly hissed that they should kill Luna now for her utter disrespect of them, but she choked the primal urge down and inhaled deeply.

"We've come this far, Lexa," Clarke said. "And appearances aside, this isn't the Mountain."

Lexa pulled a face at that, shock and terror giving way now to a rush of guilt. Clarke was right, this wasn't the Mountain. Not least because Lexa knew without a shadow of a doubt that Clarke had every intention of marching right through that awful metal door at Lexa's side. The thought of turning around and leaving Lexa had certainly never crossed Clarke's mind. Even when Lexa knew that Clarke must be repressing her own reaction to the horrible twist to their journey, for the sake of helping Lexa to calm down.

"Hey," Clarke spoke again without waiting for a response, her voice dropping to a whisper now. "Hey, babe, listen to me," Clarke urged. Her hands came up to cup Lexa's cheeks and Lexa hated that she nearly tore herself away from the much too personal contact. "No guilt, ok. I know what you're thinking about and this couldn't be more different. I came here with you. To be with the woman I love. When we stood in front of Mount Weather, it was as two leaders who always ran the risk of ending up with opposing priorities."

"You should protect yourself and turn back, Clarke," Lexa croaked out, "beja."

"No way," Clarke replied instantly to Lexa's petulance. "For once, saying please isn't going to get you what you want. And if you're trying to tell me that you intend to march right into that tunnel and do exactly what you came here to do, then you're absolutely not doing it without me."

Lexa let Clarke's words of encouragement and the conviction in her voice wash over her. Whilst it wasn't enough to wipe Lexa's fear away, nor her rage, it was enough to make her stand a lot more confidently on her feet. The trembles subsided and allowed Lexa to right her posture, Clarke's strength transferring to her and giving her the will to square her shoulders and confidently jut her chin. Lexa set her face to stone, another rock in the circle. She turned towards the watchful eyes of Luna and the entourage, and the cold stare of the metal door carved into the mountainside.

* * *

The blue sky appeared as it always did, expansive and uncomfortable to look at for too long, for it was so vivid in hue. In contrast, the other half of the view from the ridge was altered completely. The space below the horizon was no longer a desolate stretch of red and yellow, of rock and sand, the landscape blotted out by a dark swarm of human beings. Kaigo assessed the army of the Western Exodus for the very first time, standing atop a natural incline of land just outside the main circle of Mission. He gulped and held back his shock as best he could as he observed what had to be the largest gathering of people he had ever seen. Kaigo had been exiled from Ingranrona territory before Lexa had finished uniting the clans in the Kongeda, and so he had never witnessed the might of the Kongeda's total forces. Even so, Kaigo knew that the army he looked upon now was grander and mightier than that.

It wasn't just the way that the figures went back and back that made them impressive to behold, it was the abundantly clear discipline of every single member of the whole. The army stood rigidly in formation, waiting at attention, the desert having suddenly grown a field of statuesque figures.

"Amazing," Kaigo appraised, finding himself unable to keep his thoughts hidden any longer. He turned from the spectacle and looked up at Mearas, who was observing her own people at his left side. "Truly amazing, I don't think I've seen such a formidable sight. Not even the charge of the four castes of Ingranrona was as grand," Kaigo said. He referred to the Ingranrona tradition of the four different riding castes gathering once a year to ride together in ceremony and celebration. It had always been a heartstopping sight, so many horses galloping in unison over the plains. Though Mearas would not know of the tradition, Kaigo hoped that she would detect that it was a fine compliment he'd given indeed.

"Thank you," Mearas responded, sounding less cold than the previous times she had spoken, so perhaps she had recognised the high praise. She looked down and met Kaigo's eyes and he repressed a shiver. The new warmth in her voice had not reached Mearas's eyes and they seemed to warn him not too push too hard with his words. Mearas was the sort of person who would appreciate praise, but not smarminess. Kaigo thought he knew how to deal with such people, the trick was to make them feel like they were leading you in the topic of talking about themselves, not the other way around.

"I can only imagine how difficult it was to guide such a large force across the central wastes," Kaigo prompted, curious to learn more about the army that had just arrived outside his settlement, curious to know if they were the worthy allies they appeared to be.

"The journey was necessary for us to survive and we prepared for it for a long time," Mearas replied. "When the world ended, our ancestors gathered to the north of the continent, in a small pocket of land on the coast that remained habitable. To the south, we were threatened by the growing deserts of California and the central states. To the north, in former Canada, the weather grew impossibly cold. It wasn't long before the land we could survive on started to show the signs of over-cultivation. It would not support us forever. And so our leader at the time decreed that one day, we would have to journey across the continent, to find and claim lands in the far more varied climates of the East. Each generation after that prepared themselves for the Exodus. And then it came time to put those plans in motion. The journey took three years in total. Moving a whole society is slow work. And we made the crossing with no promise of salvation on the other side. That is why the Exodus must pride itself on discipline of the mind and body."

Kaigo's brow wrinkled as he sorted through the story of the Exodus that Mearas had provided. He had no concept of the places she had mentioned, just as she had no concept of the layout of the Kongeda. Still, Kaigo knew that where the Exodus had come from was irrelevant but for one detail: these people were without a home, and people without a home were so often willing to do anything in their power to claim one.

"I understand what it is like to feel your home failing beneath your feet," Kaigo offered.

Mearas nodded at that. "This is a settlement of exiles?" she tried. Kaigo was continuously impressed with Mearas's observation skills. He'd only just met her, and already he knew this woman to have been bred for leadership. They were cut from the same cloth, he thought. And what was more, she would prove a fine match for the powers that be in the Kongeda.

"Correct," he confirmed, "Everyone in Mission, and those who live elsewhere on the edge of the wastes, were exiled from the lands of the Kongeda."

"Why?" Mearas asked suspiciously. Kaigo supposed that anyone's first assumption would be that they were criminals.

"The world is a scarred place," Kaigo said, "sometimes those scars show in us. The Kongeda believes that any child born with a physical disability should be left outside to die, to remove the perceived impurity from the bloodline. Those families who do not wish to murder their own kin choose exile, sometimes at the risk of being killed for trying to run." Kaigo's voice had grown heavy with emotion.

"You chose to save your son." Mearas used her logic to follow the remainder of Kiago's story. "This Kongeda sounds barbaric. No child deserves such a cruel fate," she spat.

"Do the Exodus not do something similar?" Kaigo said. Though he knew the logic of the Kongeda to be wrong - that viewing those born with disabilities as cruxes to society was nothing short of horrific - he could imagine a militant society like the Exodus taking the same view.

"Not at all," Mearas spelled out. "Any person who can fight is trained. And those who cannot fight are useful in other ways. Do we exile our elders because their hands are too frail to hold a sword anymore? Do we condemn our children for not yet understanding orders? No. We know them to be our history, and our future respectively. There is a purpose for everyone."

"I couldn't agree more," Kaigo said, "and I am so very grateful for you arrival, General Mearas. You are right in your appraisal of the Kongeda. What it has done to my people is unforgivable. It does not deserve to live while your people and mine are left to suffer with nothing." Kaigo paused for a deep breath, the time to make his request had come. "General Mearas, I've said it before. Your coming here can only be an act of fate. Allow my people to fight the Kongeda alongside yours. Use my knowledge of the territory to assure your victory. All I ask in return is that my people, and those like them, be welcomed to make their homes among the new society you forge."

Mearas did not respond right away, her attention turning back to the expanse of her army, arms folding over her chest. "Your desperation for vengeance is dangerous, Heda Kaigo," Mearas said, "it is unmeasured, burning inside you and it discredits your honor. The Exodus do not fight for revenge, or passion; they will fight because they must. Whilst I judge that you hold no remaining loyalty to those who cast you aside, allowing those with a personal vendetta to fight alongside the Exodus is a risk."

Kaigo opened his mouth to protest, to swear that he and his people were just as disciplined as the two thousand soldiers stood before them. He thought better of it at the last moment.

"Even so, I cannot simply ignore how useful your knowledge of the Kongeda may be to the success of the war to come," Mearas said, and now she turned her body to face Kaigo properly. He mirrored the movement and the two of them sized one another up. "Kaigo, I will accept your people as allies to the Exodus on one condition. You prove yourself worthy in a duel. With me."

* * *

The whole time that Clarke and Lexa were speaking in their claimed portion of the clearing, Luna had struggled to keep her eyes off them. She understood their right to privacy, but she burned with the need to know what was being said, what decision the couple would make. On top of that, Luna was left with the six members of Lexa's entourage, and a quick scan of all of their faces revealed unrestrained rage at Luna, and terror at where she had brought them. Their expressions were an exact and excruciatingly judgemental mirror of their Commander's, and Luna could only be thankful that all six of them were loyal enough to Lexa to follow her unspoken directions not to act against Luna in any way. Still, knowing that perhaps everyone she was with wished her harm right at that moment was awful, and Luna could not deny the fear that she felt herself as she had waited.

Luna had settled for looking forlornly at the ground, toeing the rock with her feet, her shuffling no doubt betraying her nervousness to the watchful eyes. The delegation had kept their attention stubbornly on her, probably as their own way to resist peering over at their currently stricken Commander, when Lexa was trying to steal such a personal moment of emotional support. Luna did not need to worry about her appearance so much, not when her crew weren't present, and so she stood limply and let her face and body language betray the conflict inside her.

She had to believe that she had made the right call in not revealing Europa to be underground to the Kongeda. Luna knew how suspicious Trikru in particular were of places, how they saw the evil of people and the settings in which those people enacted their evil deeds as intrinsically linked. Europa was not Mount Weather, but it sure as hell looked like it standing outside the metal door, and by the very nature of it being dug out of the Earth. If Lexa had of known this, she would never have entertained the notion of coming. Luna had acted with the orders of President Dominique in mind. Luna had been asked to journey back to the Kongeda, and to get Commander Lexa to agree to travel back with her to start the process of introducing the two societies to one another as that had always been done. Leader to leader first. She hadn't been told to achieve the orders by any means necessary, but Luna had thought it implied. Luna had, as of yet, followed her mandate successfully. Despite that, she took no comfort in it, and her heart seemed to stop as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and Luna lifted her head and observed Lexa moving forward into the centre of the circle. The Commander looked ready to make an announcement that could well bring Luna's successes to a grinding halt so close to the goal.

Luna shivered as she noticed that Lexa's face was devoid of emotion now. If Luna hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she would not have imagined that the Commander had been suffering from what surely qualified as a sort of panic attack minutes ago. It was one of the biggest reminders yet that Luna kept mistaking the woman poised before her as the girl she had grown up with. Lexa wasn't that dainty, slightly mischievous, natblida anymore. She had won the conclave and become Heda. And those years of command under her belt had helped to mature Lexa into a truly formidable woman. One who made wielding power look effortless. One who, as she had just done in her cold fit of rage, was capable of thoroughly intimidating Luna, and no doubt most other people if she saw fit to.

"Captain Luna," the Commander spoke to her now, voice still cool but lacking the accompanying sneers, "Delegates of the Kongeda," Lexa continued, motioning her head to her own people. It was indeed a declaration then. "We have come this far, and this time there is no turning back," Lexa said as Luna swallowed a sigh of relief. "We did not come here to show ourselves to be cowards, who will run at the first sight of something they do not like. We go through the door, we go to Europa, and we show them that we are not to be intimidated. Luna, you may lead the way."

Luna responded simply with a bow of the head, thinking any words of encouragement would only risk causing further insult. She moved towards the right side of the metal door, where a small box was placed against the rock besides the frame. Luna yanked the small metal panel away to reveal an intercom, and, knowing it was unwise to delay, she immediately pressed the button and waited, listening to cracks and fizzles until the intercom connected.

"Tunnel Command, reading the Bordeaux Entrance?" came a male voice speaking the native language of Europa.

Luna responded in the same language, "This is Captain Luna at Bordeaux Entrance. Requesting access for myself and eight visitors."

"Captain Luna, it is good to hear your voice," the crackling reply came. "May I wish you congratulations on the success of your mission?"

Luna sniffed and did not reply to that. She'd decided that until Commander Lexa and President Dominique were shaking hands in Chambre Centrale, nothing could count as a victory. "Thank you. It's good to be back," she responded.

"I'll just need your P.I.C. and I'll get that door open for you. Transport should be where you left it. Are your crew with you?" the man asked.

"Crew will be along after me. P.I.C is four-four-oh-ninety-nine, el, kay, tee," Luna spoke her personal identification code, the number she had been given upon acceptance into Europan society. "Oh," she said as an afterthought, "better put the word out to prepare for arrival of a VIP."

"Copy that, Captain. P.I.C checks out. Door is opening now," came the reply, and the intercom clicking off was followed by the groan of metal as the door hissed and started to open. Luna backed up and watched its progress until it had swung the whole way to a ninety degree angle. The view inside was dark, lit only by the weak light of the day and even weaker electric lights mounted at very sparse intervals along the rocky walls of the tunnel. Even in the dimness, the steepness of the descent was plain to see.

Luna batted away the urge to glance behind her, trusting instead that if she moved inside, then Lexa and her entourage would follow suit. Besides that, with the door to Europa so wide open now, and the prospect of reaching Chambre Centrale with her guests more real than ever, Luna grew nervous. Most of those nerves were centered around the Commander's presence, though Luna still had plenty of suspicion to spare for Lexa's chosen personal companion. Clarke made Luna uneasy, especially as Luna learned more about the girl who fell from the sky. While Luna wasn't going to pretend that Clarke's presence hadn't just proved very useful in getting Lexa to calm down and think, one fact remained at the forefront of Luna's mind. When she had journeyed to the Kongeda, she had done so on the assumption of Mount Weather still being at large, still haunting the territory of the twelve clans. Instead, Luna had arrived to find that the Kongeda's eldest and most fearsome enemy had been felled by just one stranger. Clarke had executed every resident of the Mountain because she considered them a threat to her people. And now Luna was about to lead that woman inside another underground world. Doing so felt like an awful risk, one Luna would surely have to report to the President.

Still, the time for such concerns had passed for now. The journey was almost done, and the door open wide. Luna stared into the tunnel and began to march forward. She heard as Lexa followed, and then the rest of the group. Once they were all through, Luna used another intercom on the inside of the door, buzzing for Tunnel Command to shut the entrance tight again. Another groan as the door shut, and the nine of them were ensconced in the tunnel. Luna paused just long enough for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, and then she walked on. And no matter what her reluctant travelling companions saw or felt as they began the descent into the tunnel, as Luna led the way down and down, her own heart soared at drawing ever closer to home.

* * *

The whole settlement had gathered around the longhouse, waiting for Kaigo to appear. The news of his wanting to ally Mission with the army that had just arrived on their doorstep had, unsurprisingly, spread quickly. Now everyone waited to see their leader duel General Mearas and secure the alliance he wanted. How many people actually wanted him to succeed, Emori couldn't be certain. The residents of Mission were stoic about just about everything, and their faces betrayed little as she scanned the gathered crowd. Emori couldn't believe that these people wanted to fight alongside total strangers, she had to believe that they would not go to war willingly. But Emori had seen enough over the ten days of being trapped in Mission to know its residents were loyal to their leader, if only because they perceived Kaigo to be the glue holding them all together. The society was a little too new and too fragile to imagine anything better yet.

The thought of Kaigo leading these people to war angered Emori more than she had expected. Regardless of what she made out, she had come to care for these people, she felt like she was a part of them. From a different wasteland, and from a different walk of life, but ultimately united in the injustices done to them all. Injustices that needed to be fought against, that needed paying for. But not like this. Not in a fight that was sure to be costly, and that they had not themselves called for.

Emori felt her legs move of her own accord the moment she saw the door to the longhouse open. She propelled herself forward, away from Murphy and through the crowd, shoving and pushing bodies out of her way.

"Emori?" Murphy called, and Emori heard him start to follow but she did not stop. "Emori, wait, no!" Murphy's voice grew desperate as they broke through the front line of the crowd and Murphy realised what Emori was doing.

Emori paid no attention to Murphy's protests, marching right up into Kaigo's face, not caring whether he or his people would retaliate. "Kaigo, you cannot do this," Emori spat out. She wasn't there to beg. She was there to order. "If you go to war with the Kongeda, they will only hurt you in return. You put Mission and every other clanless grounder in danger by pursuing this course of action," she implored.

Kaigo barely even spared her a glance as he sauntered forward, his movement punctuated by the shifting sound of his leather armor. Kaigo forced Emori to backtrack, the man refusing to halt and threatening to simply barge past her. She eventually gave up shuffling backwards and fall into step beside the man. He was glassy eyed, unreadable like the rest of his people. He was a man ready to fight.

"I will give Mission an army, and we will not lose the war," Kaigo stated, voice certain but devoid of passion.

"That's bull," Murphy's voice cut in now, and Emori repressed a smile at being backed up. The pair of thieves surrounded Kaigo, one on either side, and matched his stride. "This Exodus will use you. For your knowledge of the Kongeda. For the extra cannon fodder. If the war is won it will be _their_ victory, not yours."

"Murphy's right," Emori joined in. "Do you really think this General will have a place for the clanless?"

"Once we have proven our worthiness, of course," Kaigo said, his pace quickening. Emori and Murphy kept tight to him as they passed outside the bounds of the settlement and headed to the river bed where the duel was to be fought.

"Your worthiness?" Emori hissed, anger building the more Kaigo refused to heed her wisdom. "Why don't you stop and think about your worthiness as a father first? If you won't listen to reason from us, hear it from Olli." It was a dangerous verbal blow to make, and Emori felt herself shrink as Kaigo halted. Before he could round on her however, Murphy chimed in.

"No wonder Olli is nowhere to be seen," Murphy said. It was true, Olli had been missing in action ever since his interrupted lesson with Kaigo. "He must be ashamed to look at a father who would endanger his entire people for vengeance."

Emori winced, knowing right away that Murphy had stuck his foot in his mouth quite deliberately, so that Kaigo would turn his rage onto him instead. And the ploy worked. Kaigo's face erupted in rage as the man wheeled on Murphy, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Emori put both her hands out, instinct telling her to protect Murphy, but she stopped short of coming into contact with Kaigo, believing that he wouldn't do anything drastic in front of a crowd that he needed at his back.

"How dare you!" Kaigo hissed at Murphy. "Everything I do is for my son. I abandoned _my_ home for him, gave up my title so he might live. I created this settlement so he has somewhere to call home. And I will fight and die if necessary to secure him a future that doesn't involve scraping by in the dust every single day, just to make it through each night."

"Wow," Murphy drawled out, never knowing when to quit even when it seemed his snark was about to cost him dearly. Emori would hate it if she didn't love it so much. "Way to make it all about you ' _Heda'_ **."**

"Heda Kaigo," a new voice cut in now, Ari's. The way he said the title so respectfully, in comparison to Murphy's derision, would have been tragically funny at another time. "General Mearas awaits your arrival at the river," Ari announced, explaining why he hadn't been at Kaigo's side as he usually was. "Is there a problem here?" he added.

Emori shifted her attention to Kaigo matter of factly, daring him to say that there was. She wouldn't hold back a second time.

"No," Kaigo said, releasing Murphy from his grip. "To the river, Ari," he continued, choosing to pretend that Emori and Murphy weren't there again. "We have an army to win."

With that, Kaigo and his lackey moved off, and this time Emori did not pursue. She did however let her eyes roam over the crowd, imploring them to listen to her if Kaigo would not. The passivity they had shown during the spectacle was hardly a promising sign, however. "He will kill you all," Emori let out, but doubt made her voice quiet and unconvincing.

A few awkward shuffles and quiet mumbles were her only response from the crowd, and then all together, they began to disperse, shuffling off to follow Kaigo to the river. Emori and Murphy were left alone in the circle of tents and buildings that formed Mission.

"Well," Murphy said, "worth a shot, I guess."

Emori found herself laughing despite the inappropriate timing. It was a laugh of pure, desperate helplessness. "I guess some history is about to be made," she mused once the chuckles had subsided. "We shouldn't miss it."

"We should find Olli first," Murphy responded, surprising Emori only a little. They'd both grown fond of the boy.

"If Mission joins the Exodus, we need to find a way out, Murphy," Emori said. Really that was her only motivation for wanting to watch the duel, to see the outcome for herself. She and Murphy shared a meaningful look, both of them thinking the same thing but leaving it unsaid: _we're going nowhere without the kid._ How soft they had gotten.

* * *

Clarke trudged along the apparently endless tunnel in perfect step with Lexa, their shoulders brushing every now and again as they walked. Clarke knew that she was breaking rules: this was a formal march of sorts and she should be further back, following the Commander with the entourage rather than leading alongside her. Still, nothing was going to move Clarke from her current position, and though the descent had been more stony in its silence than the walls of the tunnel, Lexa had made absolutely no effort to suggest that Clarke should pay more mind to protocol. Clarke didn't think the walk would be so bad, if the tunnel weren't so obnoxiously steep. The feeling of walking into some sort of doom permeated the journey, regardless of how likely that eventuality was. Something about willingly burying yourself under so much rock and dirt just never felt right.

One small relief was the fact that the tunnel was getting brighter the further down they went. More lights lined the walls, and Clarke imagined that soon enough the effect of the electric lamps would be quite sterilising. Sterilising and just as awfully familiar as the appearance of the door had been. Clarke supposed that she was in a better place to face what they were doing than the rest of the Delegation. She had been inside Mount Weather. She'd lived in space. She knew how to deal with being somewhere confined, somewhere where there was no outside. She had seen from the perspective of the Mountain Men how that sort of reality could twist humans into entirely unpleasant and unforgiving beings. Though she had chosen the violent course she had in the end, there had been times when Clarke had sympathised with the Mountain Men and their trapped existence. In comparison, Lexa and her entourage had no similar experiences to temper this new blow. The Mountain always had been and would always remain an almost mythical entity of pure dread for the Kongeda, thanks in part to their superstitious nature, but mostly justified by years of being preyed upon.

With that in mind, Clarke walked with purpose, and she knew her face was set firmly in one of her determined frowns. It was her turn right then to be the stronger one, to use her experience and knowledge to fill in the gaps for those who accompanied her. Even though Clarke had had her own visceral reaction to being presented with the tunnel, even though she ached with the need to voice her own worries aloud, she was content for now to push those urges down and to be who she needed to be. A skill that she had gotten better and better at the longer she had been on the ground.

"We are coming to the train track," Luna announced without pausing her movement.

The sudden noise made Clarke shudder. Her ears had grown accustomed to the quiet and the sound of a voice, any voice but especially Luna's, felt like an assault.

"Are we going to have to wait for the trains?" Clarke asked, when nobody else gave a response to Luna's revelation. She supposed that was because nobody else present was entirely certain of what Luna was speaking of. One of the clans, Boudalan, made it's home along the old railway lines, and many of its residents lived in repurposed carriages. But the Kongeda had likely never encountered a working train of any kind. It was going to be like getting them onto the ship all over again. Clarke almost snorted as she found herself wondering if Europa owned any working aircraft, just to complete the set.

"No, my crew and I used them when we first set off on our journey. This section of the tunnels is rarely used, and so the carriages are still waiting for us," Luna replied, the words echoing off and up and down the tunnel.

True to Luna's word, for once, the tunnel started to meander to the right, and then a T-junction came into view. The adjacent tunnel's floor was lined with track and two surprisingly shiny, metal carriages were waiting on those tracks. Clarke's brow wrinkled more as she took in the sight. She didn't know why she had been envisioning a much more beaten down look to the trains, but she had and the high-tech and clearly well maintained ones waiting instead troubled her further. Though Mount Weather had owned nothing of the sort, preferring instead to fill its empty spaces with art and other frivolities, the trains betrayed that the two societies shared a reliance on the technologies of the old world. Clarke was hoping that the similarities between the two would lessen the further in they ventured, not grow.

"We take the front carriage," Luna spoke again, "they both run independently and my crew will require the second."

"Europa must be incredibly technologically sufficient to maintain such a transport system," Lexa said, the first words from the Commander since her short speech outside the tunnel entrance. Clarke ignored the urge to reach out and take Lexa's hand at the sound of Lexa's quiet voice, passive-sounding to everyone except Clarke, who could still detect the fear as easily as if Lexa had simply admitted that she was afraid.

"It has to be, to survive underground for so long," Luna answered. By now, the group had reached the edge of the track and Luna wasted no time in opening the door to the front carriage, motioning that everyone should climb aboard. "Answers are coming, Commander, I promise you," Luna assured as Lexa stepped and boarded the train.

Clarke followed immediately, and found the brightness of the train much more pleasant than the tunnels. Lexa on the other hand was assessing the narrow tube of metal as if it was one of the worst things she had ever seen.

"Guess this is a first for both of us," Clarke mused aloud, keeping her voice only just above a whisper so as not to be overheard.

Lexa peered at her and might have smiled, but then Luna's voice came again.

"Get yourselves comfortable. The carriage moves quickly, but it's a long way to Chambre Centrale from here," Luna said, still holding the door open.

Clarke and Lexa both shuffled themselves towards the back of the carriage, to allow room for Lexa's entourage to board too. Clarke watched as they all had about the same reaction to the train as their Commander.

"I just have to de-couple the two carriages and we'll be on our way," Luna said, and with everyone aboard, she let the door slam shut. Clarke watched Luna through the windows, and then felt as the carriage shuddered as Luna freed it from its twin.

"She's insufferable," Clarke muttered quite without thought, though the snort it earned from Lexa made the lack of thought worth it. "Come on," Clarke urged, "might as well make the rest of the journey in comfort. I wouldn't be surprised if the next part of the journey is a jog. Maybe a swim," Clarke continued, not really thinking of her words, as she ushered Lexa to a pair of seats at the back of the carriage.

"You'll be glad I taught you, then," Lexa responded.

The two of them sat down and without giving Lexa the chance to, Clarke motioned her hand to the two guards, ordering them to stand in the corridor shoulder to shoulder to block access to herself and the Commander. If they were going to be stuck on the train for some time, Clarke was now intent on making the journey feel a little more friendly. She heard the door open and close again, announcing that Luna had boarded the train too. Clarke watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Luna's red curls appeared before the guard shaped barricade. With their silent orders clear, both Karlo and Sage stood firm and denied Luna entry to the back of the train. Defeated, the top of Luna's head disappeared, and Clarke heard her retreating footsteps as Luna went to the front to drive the carriage.

The carriage shuddered and began to move promptly, the electricity powered contraption making barely a sound as it gathered speed. Clarke had claimed the window seat and she watched the tunnel wall flash by a while, before sighing and closing her eyes, letting her head drop onto Lexa's shoulder. Lexa's chin quickly rested atop her head.

"How are you feeling?" Clarke enquired, her hand finding and squeezing Lexa's knee.

"Like I'm trapped," Lexa replied with honesty that was difficult to hear. "I'm sure I'll adjust."

"I'm so proud of you, Lexa," Clarke admitted. She found herself nuzzling further into Lexa's neck, enjoying the homely scent of Lexa's skin when they were so very far away from home. "What you are doing is so brave, you know."

Lexa hummed at that. "It doesn't feel brave," she said. Clarke felt as Lexa's jaw tensed, chin moving against Clarke's hair. "I should ask you how you are, Clarke," Lexa whispered.

"I'm dealing with it," Clarke gave in response. It was the easiest way to communicate that she too was feeling the negative effects of their current situation, without dwelling on them. Lexa's head shifted position and Clarke sighed happily as she felt warm lips press against her forehead a second.

"You can talk to me, niron. I am here for you, as you are here for me," Lexa spoke against Clarke's skin, her words tickling. "That's how we're going to see this through this time."

Clarke let her eyes open again at those words, and she picked her head up off Lexa's shoulder to look Lexa in the eyes. "Well then," Clarke breathed, "there'll be no stopping us."

Matching Clarke's words, the train kept up its rapid pace through the tunnels, and Clarke took every comfort in the knowledge that it carried with it a Clarke and Lexa shaped storm.

* * *

Kaigo breathed deeply, trying to get as much air into his body as possible. He could feel sweat beading all over his body already under the protection of his leather armor; chest guard and pauldrons that he hadn't had cause to wear in a long time. Kaigo flexed his shoulders and measured up his opponent, the woman he hoped to best and subsequently form an alliance with. She was clad head to toe in armor that looked even heavier than his own, but Kaigo knew that neither that, nor the heat of his home, would provide any advantage to him. General Mearas had crossed the whole wastes, faced and defeated a place where life shouldn't exist. She was certain to be a challenging opponent, but Kaigo had faith in his own training, and in the strength of his desire for victory.

"May I name the terms?" Mearas asked him, voice booming despite the small distance between them, so that the gathered crowd up on the river bank might hear.

"Be my guest," Kaigo responded. He found his stomach rolling as it dawned on him then just how far he had to lift his neck to look Mearas in the face. She was taller and broader than him, she was likely to be stronger. Kaigo secretly wished that he'd disagreed now and made the terms himself. Maybe he could have convinced her to a joust on horseback to give himself some semblance of advantage.

"Single combat to the first fatal mistake. No kills. We do not leave the river bed. If you win, the Exodus will welcome you and your people into our ranks," Mearas listed off in her loud, even voice.

Kaigo creased his brow. "And if I lose?"

Mearas seemed to ponder a moment, like she hadn't already considered what she might order the Exodus to do in that eventuality. Of course she had, and she smiled in a way that might have been sweet on another face. She answered quietly now, so that the spectators would not hear her, "If you lose, Heda Kaigo, the Exodus will be ordered to slaughter the people of Mission. And you will be taken as my prisoner. I will learn all you know of the Kongeda through force."

Kaigo felt himself gulp, his attention roaming to the banks where his people stood and watched, none the wiser to the threat Mearas had just made to every one of them. Kaigo considered insisting that Mearas repeat her answer louder, but he did not ask. He would not cause a panic. After all, the Exodus were present too, standing right behind his own people, breathing down their necks. If he lost, Mearas could carry out the execution in moments. He had to find victory, but if he did not, there was comfort to be had in knowing the end of Mission would come quickly and, if the disciplined appearance of the Exodus force was anything to judge upon, cleanly. Making Mearas shout out her threats would only inspire the Exodus to greater cruelty.

With the terms set, all that was left was for the duel to begin. Kaigo cracked his neck, letting the world fall away. He thought no more of the watching crowd, let the altercation with Emori and Murphy fall to the wayside. Kaigo even forced himself not to dwell on the whereabouts of his son, whether he might have reappeared and was somewhere among the crowd. His mind free of these distractions, Kaigo reached and drew his longsword from its sheath, readying it in a defensive position, angling his body to the side to present a smaller target.

Kaigo tracked Mearas carefully as she mirrored the small ritual, waited until she had also lifted her sword aloft. Kaigo moved then, sidestepping forward and bringing his sword down in a one-handed swipe. Mearas checked the attack easily, and Kaigo felt his arm bones shudder as their swords kissed and clattered apart. Kaigo quickly set his feet, feeling the lay of the rock underfoot, making sure to plant himself somewhere stable. He took a proper two-handed grip on his weapon and swung again, and again, and again. Each thrust and swipe was blocked, or batted away by Mearas as they fell into a full bout, the air around the two of them vibrating with the sounds of metal clashing against metal.

A poorly timed thrust had Kaigo put on the back foot, and he found himself having to inch backwards as Mearas moved on the offensive. Her attacks were ferociously strong, but perfectly measured, and Kaigo's eyes darted this way and that, tracking the glint of Mearas's blade as it soared, cutting and slashing the air, edging towards his face, his chest, down to his legs. Kaigo ground his teeth together and checked his grip on his sword, feeling his palms grow damp against the leather-wrapped hilt. His upper body burned with the effort of stalling Mearas's advance, his checks and blocks always coming just in the nick of time. There was no room for error, no chance of Mearas letting up. Her form was stunning in its formality, and Kaigo knew as they chopped and parried at one another that he was truly in presence of a woman who had been bred for exactly this. Bred for war.

Mearas's face betrayed no emotion as she kept coming; no snarl twisted her mouth. Even her eyes were devoid of life, as if she herself had become the weapon, an unfeeling extension of the sword that she wielded. Kaigo had no choice but to try to mirror her detached approach, though he found it much more difficult being the one with more to win and far, far more to lose. He could not let himself grow frustrated, could show no reaction to Mearas's lack of emotion. Kaigo couldn't say if it would have been easier to avoid falling to desperation were Mearas actively trying to taunt him. At least if she had been, she would also be giving him a chance to use his own wit as a secondary weapon in retaliation.

Kaigo gasped sharply as he felt a piece of rock come loose under his boot, and he stumbled. Mearas responded immediately to his clumsy footwork. She aimed a cruel jab into the gap Kaigo's stumble had created in his guard. With no chance of getting his own sword up in time to block, Kaigo was forced to stagger to the side. He felt exertion set in, a result of moving more than he liked to with his strength-focused style of combat.

Mearas closed the distance he had gained immediately with her long strides. Kaigo finally steadied himself and raised his guard again just in time to meet Mearas's swing, and their swords locked between their bodies, both warriors pressing all of their strength into the block. Kaigo grunted with the strain of keeping up the sword block, lest their weapons slide apart and give Mearas another opening. It was no use though, and where he had reached the limits of his strength, Mearas kept pushing. Kaigo was outmatched, there was no escaping the fact anymore, no denying it. Kaigo felt as their blades began to shift, juddering and then sliding across each other's lengths all of a sudden. Kaigo tried to compensate by bringing his sword back in a backhanded swipe, but Mearas was waiting, and with one powerful swing, she knocked Kaigo's longsword clean out his hands, the weapon spinning dramatically through the air before hitting the rockbed with a resolute, doomed clatter.

Time seemed to stand perfectly still, the gasps of the audience hanging in the atmosphere, as Kaigo waited to be incapacitated. If he was to be kept alive and tortured, there was still plenty of places that Mearas could stab him without taking his life just yet. Instead, Kaigo heard himself groan as Mearas kicked his legs from under him, and then his world went dark for a moment as he face planted into the dirt, his hands coming up instinctively to protect his face, a last useless show of his drive for survival. He breathed in dirt as his spirit found its way back into his body, and, with considerable effort, shifted onto his back to peer up into the victor's face. Mearas stared back, and then her mouth was opening and Kaigo shut his eyes, as if doing so would prevent him from hearing her give the call to the Exodus to slaughter his people in punishment for his utter failure.

No words escaped General Mearas however, only laughter. Full, rich laughter that echoed even further that the noise of their duel had, and stung Kaigo's ego even more too. To add to the humiliation, Mearas started to clap and Kaigo opened his eyes again in shocked embarrassment as he heard the crowd join in at Mearas's urging.

"Heda Kaigo!" Mearas bellowed out his name as her laughter subsided. "You have impressed me greatly."

Kaigo's tongue felt rough with the dirt he had eaten and he found himself at a total loss for words. He settled for staring up at Mearas in confusion, still too embroiled in the shame of defeat to consider picking himself up off the ground.

"Most who fight against me last less than thirty seconds," Mearas claimed, "and you just lasted four minutes. Congratulations, Kaigo," the General said, offering him a large hand .

Kaigo stared at the offered hand and realised he had been thoroughly duped. Mearas never believed he could win against her. She just needed to know that he was skilled enough to hold his own against a stronger opponent without giving into anger. She'd even revealed her expectations to him earlier, though he hadn't seen it. Kaigo had proven that he could fight without letting himself be swayed by his passion. He had seen Mearas's indomitable form and mirrored it to the best of his ability. He had not fallen back on taunting, nor on dirty play. He was worthy. Mearas hoisted him to his feet the moment Kaigo took her hand.

"People of Mission," Mearas announced to the crowd on the bank, relinquishing her hold on Kaigo and stepping towards their audience. Kaigo followed and took a place at her side. "Soldiers of the Exodus. From this moment our peoples are united! We fight as one until our new home is won, or until our last warrior has fallen." Mearas paused then to shake Kaigo's hand. "It will be an honor to fight alongside you," she said only to him. Her words were nearly drowned out by the raucous noise of cheering, flooding down from the crowd on the bank and filling the river bed. If each cry of hope were a drop of water, the river would have flowed once more.


	6. When the Bough Breaks

**6\. WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS**

It was too bright. That was Lexa's initial impression of Chambre Centrale the moment the train had come to a stop at Station Ouest and the Commander had stepped off the transport. Lexa felt as though she was constantly squinting. The lighting seemed to bounce infinitely, the clinical white refracting off the ceramic walls and the stainless steel that formed Europa's decor. Lexa supposed it was no surprise that these materials had been used. Digging out such a structure would have secured Europa with an abundance of clay. The material there to be kilned and turned into the strong walls of the chamber and the buildings within. Metal lasted through years of use, especially when it was as well maintained as the finishings and stairways dotted around Europa seemed to be. The well looked after feel of the place only made it seem more clinical to Lexa. Rather than assuring her that the people of Europa cared about their home, it made the place feel impersonal. Impersonal and far, far too bright.

The effect was particularly disorienting after the dimness of the carriage on the long train journey to the center of Europa. Luna had claimed that they had been travelling for well over six hours. Lexa was inclined to believe it, though she had spent a lot of that time asleep on Clarke's shoulder. The darkness of sleep had been an escape from the residual pangs of terror and claustrophobia, feelings that had resurfaced the moment Lexa had been tapped awake. Especially when it had dawned on Lexa, as she stepped from the train to the platform, that she had just finished the longest journey of her whole life. Clarke had orbits around the Earth under her own belt, but for Lexa, the miles they had just travelled seemed unquantifiable.

The Commander tried not to dwell on her fear, setting her jaw and checking her stride. She followed Luna diligently through the second floor of the chamber. It was round in shape, with a wide passageway curving around the circumference. The street, if one could call it that, was lined on both sides by a multitude of buildings, not all them as high as the chamber itself. The layout gave the impression of a surface village that had been swallowed whole by the ground.

Most of the structures had their doors open and sported brightly lit signs outside. Stores and other businesses. The chamber's center of trade. There were people everywhere, about as many as one would expect to see in Polis on a warm and dry day. Despite the crowds, Lexa and her group marched on unhindered thanks to the guards who had met them at the station. The guard patrol and a group of stewards, there to relieve the Delegation of their luggage and take it to their quarters ready, had been the only welcome at the station.

The guards surrounded all sides of the foreign Delegation, ushering people aside so that the Commander may pass. They were armed with short sticks that appeared to be made of rubber, and nothing else. Lexa didn't think they'd be much use in defending against attack. Nor did the guards do anything to stop the caustic feeling of being watched by every Europan as Lexa passed them.

Lexa thought she had gotten used to being looked at peculiarly by Luna's crew, used to the clashing style of dress; Lexa and her people so very in their time, Luna's people plucked from the world before the war. Now the feeling was worse, as Lexa stared right back at the Europans. There were styles of clothing Lexa had never seen before, dresses that even the finest tailors in the Kongeda would struggle to create with their materials. There were garments so brash in pattern and color that Lexa almost found them more offensive to behold that the lighting. One man in particular stood out as Lexa passed by him. He was clad in a bright turquoise shirt, the garish color of which clashed entirely with the shirt's loud pattern of trees, palms like those found in Yujleda territory back home. It seemed the people were trying to make up for their surroundings' lack of character.

"It reminds me of the Ark," Clarke piped up from where she was walking, just behind Lexa's right side. So far, the Delegation had walked in silence, to give everyone the chance to take stock of their new surroundings without being overwhelmed by everyone else's observations. "The metal anyway, and the circular path. It's like walking around the Go-Sci Station," Clarke continued.

"Then perhaps the familiarity will help you to settle in," Luna responded, inclining her head over her shoulder to acknowledge Clarke.

"It's missing the windows. And the view of Earth," Clarke countered immediately, and though Lexa could not see Clarke herself, she could imagine the slightly smug jut of Clarke's chin.

Despite that, Lexa could not take comfort in Clarke's snide remark, for it had just further reminded her of the absence of windows, or even of any outside space at all. Lexa breathed deeply and reminded herself that during the walk she _had_ noticed stairways, and maybe, just maybe, they led all the way back up to the surface. Lexa did not dare to think how much of a climb it would be to get up there, however.

"I hope that you all get chance to properly experience the commercial chamber." Luna was speaking now, either unperturbed by Clarke's snappish mood, or pretending to be. "For now, let's get you all to the Auditorium. President Dominique and her Delegates will be waiting for you there."

With that, the guarded group came to a stop outside a large set of sliding metal doors. Luna pushed a button on the wall and the doors opened to reveal an elevator. Lexa felt herself smile at the familiar contraption as they stepped inside, rearranging themselves to maintain the correct order of their procession. The elevator shuddered once as it started to move, and then ascended much more smoothly and noiselessly than the man-powered elevator of Polis Tower.

In short time, the doors opened again onto the third floor and Lexa blinked rapidly as she was met with yet more blindingly white walls, these ones curving up smoothly from the poured floor, uninterrupted by the shape of individual buildings. Like the commercial chamber below, a path stretched off and around the chamber on both sides, but this time the Delegation stepped from the elevator and struck directly forward, towards the inner wall. The wall was flawless but for the presence of vast metal doors dead ahead - the entrance to what had to be the Auditorium that Luna had mentioned.

It was the first real hint of grandeur Lexa had seen here, the metal even more brilliant in such a vast quantity. On each door, right down the middle from ceiling to floor hung rich blue flags emblazoned with golden stars. Two large guards stood on either side of the doors. When they saw the delegation approach, the guards moved into action, pulling the doors open between the four of them. The heavy metal clearly required their combined strength to be moved. That the doors were not powered by electricity like all others the group had passed through only added to the feeling that Lexa was being led somewhere special, somewhere sacred. The seat of government in Europa.

The Delegation made it to the doors and stopped there, right on the precipice before two nations met officially for the first time.

"As a sign of trust, the guard outfit will remain outside the room for the duration of this first meeting," Luna explained. On cue, the guards moved away from the gathering and formed up in a line to wait the meeting out. "I must ask you all now to relinquish any and all weapons on your person before we enter the Auditorium. They will be returned to you before you are shown to your quarters, and there you will have a secure locker to keep them in for the remainder of your stay. To be caught carrying a weapon from that moment will be considered an offence and you will be dealt with accordingly. Understood?" Luna asked, not forcefully.

Lexa gave a curt nod in response and immediately began untying her sheath from her waist. Some of the guards came forward again to gather up the weapons and Lexa placed her sword into the arms of a particularly stern looking woman. Next, Lexa unbuckled her knife sheath from her thigh and, more reluctantly, handed that over too. "Please look after this," she asked sincerely, forgetting that the guard could not understand.

The woman frowned and looked to Luna, who spoke to her in Europan. The guard nodded and replied.

"You do not need to worry, Commander," Luna assured on the guard's behalf, "I've made it clear that these weapons are precious to you and yours. They will be well looked after."

Lexa narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if she had heard disdain in Luna's voice when she had noted how important weapons were to the people of the Kongeda. Lexa thought it best to let it slide. It was time to make the best impression possible, and convincing yourself that the other side believed themselves to be your superior would not make for a good start.

"Are you ready, Commander?" Luna asked, looking at Lexa with a sage expression that still seemed uncharacteristic on Luna's face.

"Lead the way, Captain," Lexa responded.

Lexa waited for Luna to turn about and start walking, and then she followed, stepping through the doors and taking in the spectacle of the Auditorium. Lexa nearly gasped as she walked from the sterile corridor into a much more comfortable setting. Here, the rock and stone of the Earth had not been covered up, the large circular room embracing its nature to spectacular effect. The doors led to the very top tier of graduated seating, each level carved right out of the rock, with metal frames drilled to the stone at regular interval to form cushioned chairs of alternating blue and gold fabric. The colours would have been garish except that the lighting in the upside down cone of the Auditorium was far more subtle.

The seating went down and down, each tier smaller than the one above until it met the ground. Luna led the delegation down the stairs to the floor level, and Commander Lexa got her first view of President Dominique, who was standing on the opposite side of a large circular table with three other people. The table too was carved out of the stone, with a white grid that Lexa assumed to be technological laid across its surface. Luna moved around the table, and Lexa felt her pulse quicken as she followed each step. At last, Luna halted, moved aside, and left Commander Lexa face to face with President Dominique.

There was a beat where the two leaders measured each other up, their attendants falling away in the moment. Lexa barely into her twenties. Clad in her long, battered coat, spaulder and sash. Hair in its customary intricate braids. Dominique middle aged. Dressed in well fitted, pristine pants with small stripes, and a matching sort of coat over a white top of unusual fabric. Her black hair gathered in a tight bun. Despite these stark differences, Lexa recognised the curiosity, and underneath, the friendliness in the President's eyes. They were a deep brown, and large on a lighter, cool brown face. After a few more seconds, Dominique offered out her hand, and as Lexa reached to take it, she noted that it was far less calloused than her own.

"Heda Lexa of the Kongeda. Bienvenue. Welcome to Europa," President Dominique said in welcome as they shook hands.

"President Dominique," Lexa answered with a respectful bow of the head. This was after all, Dominique's territory. "It is good to finally meet you."

The President gave a genuine smile in response and turned her head to Luna. She spoke rapidly in Europan and then Luna relayed the request to Lexa.

"President Dominique asks your permission for an image to be taken of you shaking hands, to be broadcast around Europa," Luna explained.

Lexa tried not to frown as she immediately imagined having to stand and pose for a sketch to be made. She decided that they probably had something more technological and efficient in mind, and so she simply nodded her assent.

Permission given, there was some shuffling as President Dominique directed Lexa to a particular spot. They took each other's hands again and held the pose. "Look there," Dominique instructed with a point.

Lexa followed Dominique's finger and saw that one of Dominique's people, a man of similar age to the President, was holding up a strange rectangular object that Lexa could see right through. Then, the view of the man through the thing was replaced by a mirrored image of herself and Dominique clasping hands.

"Smile," Dominique said.

Lexa obeyed as best she could, finding the whole thing very false, even more so than the fanfare that usually came with the start of meetings back in her own throne room. There was a small click and, apparently satisfied with the result, the man lowered the rectangle and placed it onto the surface of the table.

"Thank you, Heda," Dominique said as they stepped out of the faked handshake. "Now, we should make introductions. Quickly, I am sure you and your people are tired," she urged in her kind voice.

Lexa observed quietly, letting President Dominique direct the proceedings. Dominique waved her hand to call forward the three people that had been waiting with her. She motioned first to the man who had taken the picture. "May I introduce Tunnels Delegate Kurt."

Delegate Kurt gave a bow in greeting, which made the jet black curls atop his head bounce. Despite his being Dominique's age, perhaps older, there was not a single hint of grey to be found, though his russet face was defined by deep lines on his forehead and around his eyes.

"This is Outlands Delegate Gabor," President Dominique introduced the next Delegate, a much younger man, with even longer curls, this time brown, and piercing blue eyes. He gave a smile and a bob of the head. Lexa noted with curiosity that his skin looked sun kissed as opposed to naturally tan.

President Dominique motioned to the last person, a woman this time. "Finally, Prospector Delegate Maria," she introduced. Maria looked younger even than Gabor, the closest person in age to Lexa in Dominique's government. She had dark black skin and a loose afro.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Lexa replied now that Dominique was through, "May I thank you all for welcoming us to your home."

Lexa decided it was best to trust that Luna would translate as necessary and so she made her own introductions promptly, introducing her guards, stewards, and handmaids in succession. At last, Lexa motioned to Clarke. She had thus far remained quiet and slightly off to the side of the Delegation, seeing that she was not officially a part of it. Now, she moved forward and took her more customary spot at Lexa's side.

"President, Delegates of Europa, may I introduce Bandrona Clarke Griffin kom Skaikru, my partner," Lexa said, unable to keep the pride out of her voice as she identified Clarke as being hers.

The President spoke to Luna again, whatever she said making Luna laugh. "The President says that's quite the long name, Ambassador," Luna offered.

Clarke smiled, playing her part excellently. "Well," she replied, "I only inherited the title and the clan after joining the Kongeda, Captain Luna kom Europa née Trikru," she finished.

Lexa smiled despite herself and was happy when the President, following more translations, gave a short laugh in response, followed politely by her Delegates. "Touché," Dominique admitted. There was a pause and then President Dominique spoke again, "Well, I am happy to leave things there for today," she stated, "we do not wish to keep you from resting. Are there any questions before we part ways?"

Lexa considered a moment. There was one thing that had caught her attention and she closed in on the thought. "You introduced Gabor as the 'Outlands Delegate'," Lexa remembered, "that means that Europa does also exist above ground?" she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful, nor too relieved. If Europans were already capable of living on the outside, that removed the possibility of them wanting to use the Kongeda in a similar way to how the Mountain had.

"Exactly," Dominique confirmed, "Though still mostly underground. We have everything down here. Not so up there."

Lexa nodded that she understood, and indulged in the feeling of relief just a little, feeling her shoulders relax.

"I am sure this is very different from your Kongeda," President Dominique said, making Lexa wonder just how much Luna had told her. "I would like to promise you that Europa is open to you; we wish for you to feel welcome here. So, allow the guards to accompany you to your quarters for now, and after you rest we can begin getting to know one another, and the stories of our societies, properly. I feel there is so much we have to learn from one another."

Commander Lexa detected the note of concern in Dominique's voice again through the slightly mechanical lilt of someone speaking a language they did not know quite fluently. Lexa swallowed and tipped her head again, "Thank you, that is a good plan. I look forward to starting the dialogue between our peoples."

And so the first meeting between the Kongeda and Europa came to an end. Lexa had not learned as much as she had liked, and now that she had suggested that she had no more burning questions, a whole host of them seemed to suddenly plague her mind. Still, the time for those would come, and Lexa had to admit that every time Dominique had suggested that she and her Delegation must be weary, hearing it had made it all the more true.

Lexa bit her tongue against yawning as Luna took her leave of her President and led them all back up the steps and out of the grand doors, a single rap on the metal communicating for the guards outside to open them. Lexa considered now more than ever how large a sign of trust leaving the room unguarded except for the outside had been. Even the Commander's handmaids possessed moderate hand-to-hand combat skills and despite being weaponless, had the meeting gone poorly there could still have been a slaughter. Lexa doubted that Luna would be a match for her anymore, and definitely not when Lexa had seven other people at her back. Though, if things had come to blows, she imagined one person in particular would be first in line to give the Captain a piece of her mind. In actual fact, the first meeting had been somewhat droll and over so quickly given the time taken to get to it. And Commander Lexa liked that just fine.

* * *

Abby fidgeted about, trying to find a comfortable way to kneel upon the grass and failing, loathe to admit that it was simply a case of not being as young as she once was. She should have thought to bring out chairs. Abby shuffled, before finally giving up, the knees of her jeans stained green by now. She found herself glancing about awkwardly, to see if anyone had noticed her discomfort. Her eyes found Chancellor Sinclair's and in them, she saw a look of sympathetic understanding. She felt her lips tug and averted the Chancellor's gaze.

With work on the deconstruction of the main arch of the settlement getting underway today, the main building of Arkadia had been emptied of people, as a precautionary measure. A lot of people saw this as an opportunity to be idle, and there were many clumps of people dotted about the camp exterior, their necks craned upwards as they watched the work being done. Abby on the other hand had not been perturbed by the lack of her medbay or the equipment within. In a rare stroke of luck, the small area of grass inside the walls had been empty, with all the kids outside the gates having lessons. Abby had immediately claimed the patch of clear land, and announced that she was about to teach a lesson on basic first aid that anyone was welcome to join in with. It was always a good time to revise some of the basics, and a good number of people had chosen to take part. They, along with the Trikru healers, filled the patch of land up.

Abby tried not to dwell on just how unnerving she found the sight of all of Arkadia gathered outside. The last time the exterior had been so packed, ALIE had enacted her coup, activating all of the chips and taking over the settlement. Now, her threat had been dealt with, but seeing everyone outside was still a painful reminder of just how few _Sky people_ there were left. Abby knew that the thirteenth clan had a large reputation, an almost legendary status already, within the Kongeda. Something about that status made it easy to forget just how insignificant they were until faced with hard, undeniable visual evidence. The sparseness of their whole population was particularly striking to Abby, now that she had visited the Trikru capital a second time and walked its streets. And Polis was just one settlement in one clan. Arkadia and the farmland was it for Skaikru.

Her morbid thoughts weighing her down, Abby felt her rear hit the grass as her posture slipped again. She frowned and looked up towards the arch. It was currently flanked on both sides by two timber framed rope-and-pulley lifts, both of them currently suspended up high. Abby could just make out the dot of Miller as he worked away at removing the outer panels of the structure. She had to take some comfort in the sight. In the knowledge that Skaikru had been finding its stride in the year she was gone, so that now, the settlement was ready to look ahead to the future. They were small, but Abby couldn't deny the sense of optimism shared by all of them that one day they would outgrow Arkadia's walls as they currently stood. On the Ark, being quick to action was a necessity. Identifying problems before they happened was a matter of life and death. They'd lost the battle with foresight in the end, but they'd lived to tell the tale. With their spirits intact after a lot more mishaps and a lot less recuperation time.

Feeling a little more at ease, Abby returned her focus to her lesson. She looked out over the people filling the pitch, each of them ready with a sack filled with grain at their knees. The supplies were to play the part of a patient requiring CPR, since the only practice dummy that had survived this long was set before Abby so that she could show the techniques as accurately as possible. Abby had to admit that the sight of the healers and the others who had joined in leaning ready over their burlap patients was quite amusing. She was smiling warmly when she brought the lesson to a start,

"Alright," Abby began. "Most of you should already be familiar with the process of administering CPR at this point, but revisiting these things is never without merit. Let's begin." Abby shifted so that she was kneeling properly and leaned over the practice dummy, ready to demonstrate. "When somebody is unresponsive, we think ABC. That's airways, breathing, circulation. This is the order in which we should check for signs of life from our patient..."

Abby found the lesson coming easily, and as she spoke her mind drifted again. She was pleased to note the rapt attention each one of the Trikru healers was paying her. The fact that such simple, life-saving knowledge, had been lost until Skaikru had come to the ground was shocking. Abby couldn't bear to think how many lives had been needlessly lost over the years, simply because the method of resuscitation had been forgotten. When Abby had used the stun baton to bring Lincoln back, the Commander and Indra had looked at her like she'd just performed magic, faces filled with shock and fear. Abby counted her lucky stars that she had not been met by the same resistance by the healers stationed in Arkadia. The Trikru healers were keen to learn, and they picked things up quickly, as demonstrated now as they all satisfactorily mimed Abby's actions as she talked the process through. Abby was sure that their willingness to pay Skaikru heed was in large part thanks to the year of calm they'd enjoyed. That year included Arkadia learning to behave itself, though with the settlement needing to focus inwardly to recover from the City of Light debacle, it was no wonder they'd had no time to even think about creating trouble elsewhere.

Despite that, Abby still worried about Skaikru's standing in the Coalition. The Trikru healers had the benefit of being among Arkadia's residents everyday, and they were seeing them at both their best and most mundane. Out beyond the walls, Abby knew that the stories of the Skaikru's destructive tendencies probably still passed from mouth to ear. They likely got exaggerated each time they were told, too. The passing on of such positive knowledge as medical expertise, so that it may trickle throughout all of society, was a wonderful thing. But it was something likely to fall under the radar when weighed against, say, the massacre of a peacekeeping force, or the slaughter of eighteen elders and children.

As Abby got round to demonstrating chest compressions on the practice dummy, she found herself attacking the task with frustrated vigor. Abby knew in retrospect that there was so much more she should have asked Clarke in Polis before she'd let her sail off across the ocean. Abby's mouth formed a hard line as she tried to resist thinking about her daughter, but it was no use. Ever since her return to Arkadia, Abby's thoughts had been filled with worry for Clarke. She supposed that that was a natural state of being for a mother, but this was worse. Clarke knew how to really, really make Abby fret.

Motherly concern aside, the thought of Polis and the Kongeda currently running without the Skaikru Ambassador, or the Commander who had done so much to carve a path of peace where violence had once reigned, was alarming. It was Lexa's mercy, and her following that mercy up time and time again, that had afforded Skaikru this chance to not just rebuild, but to better their society. For them to be able to continue doing so, Skaikru's standing as the thirteenth clan had to hold and without Clarke or Lexa there to support that standing, well, Abby knew she had always been prone to pessimism and this was no exception. And underneath all that serious concern for the safety of Skaikru, Abby was, selfish as it may be, missing her daughter greatly. Missing her and worrying about her. Lexa too. Abby rather looked forward to getting the chance to properly get to know the woman who had been entrusted with her daughter's heart. With the pair of them so far away, the chance seemed slimmer than ever.

"Abby? _Abby?_ "

Abby blinked and tried to source the voice, the noise becoming less and less distant until she realised that Chancellor Sinclair was trying to get her attention. "Yes?"

"I think you got a little lost in your own world, Doc. Your patient got a few too many compressions," Sinclair said, as quietly as possible to save Abby further embarrassment.

Abby looked sheepish. "You're right, I let myself drift away just then," she admitted, before glancing up at the crowd, "Maybe don't do that in a real situation," she played it off and scored enough sympathetic laughs to make herself feel better. She sucked in a breath and flexed her hands. "Alright, let's go through that again. Properly this time."

With that, Abby started over, and the group followed her lead.

* * *

Miller felt the wooden platform of the rope and pulley lift wobble beneath his feet. Each shudder of the timber came in time to the strikes of his hammer against the metal paneling that covered the wrecked arch of Alpha station, the dominating feature of Arkadia finally being deconstructed and it's carcass used to build something new. Miller was working right where Raven had instructed they should start from, at the highest point of the curve, farthest away from both the vertical portion of the station that was still used as living quarters, and where the wreck met the mountainside behind the camp. It had taken over a week to construct the lifts out of timber from the forest, and as the dizzyingly tall structure shook, Miller was silently grateful for his trust in Raven's engineering capabilities as well as the fact that he had no fear of heights.

The clanking of the hammer was occasionally interrupted by the groans of twisting metal as Miller used the other end of the tool to twist loose the nuts and bolts that had, for nearly one hundred years, kept the Ark airtight and livable. The same sounds also echoed from the opposite side of the Ark, where an identical timber lift held Macallan aloft.

With a few more bolts loosed, the panel Miller was working on came free, and he guided it away from the frame beneath. He hefted it onto the platform, to join another few sheets he'd already reclaimed. Once this panel was removed, Miller could see through the interior of the arch to the other side, and he flashed a grin at Macallan.

"Fancy seeing you up here," Miller teased. He knew that neither of them, a thief and a former plumber, were particularly qualified for the task at hand, but one thing Arkadia had learned how to do really well was to make do with the skillsets of those that had survived this long.

Macallan did not respond right away, for he was still banging away at his own panel, his face scrunched up in concentration and red from the exertion. The metal came loose and Macallan stored it on his platform, before turning to regard Miller with a shake of the head. "Would it be reasonable for me to just wheel the piano onto the lift and bring it up here to keep you entertained?" he gasped out.

Miller laughed, daring to let his body lean out over the platform, his arm coming to rest against an exposed piece of the Ark's frame to keep him steady. "Wouldn't mind some music to work to, but I'd rather the extra pair of hands."

Macallan pulled a face as he made jazz hands, or rather one jazz hand because the other stayed fisted around his hammer. Miller decided to take a little more of a breather and he watched as Macallan got to work unfixing the next panel, though it wasn't much of one for more than half of the metal had burned away during the Ark's crash landing. Miller found himself glancing over his shoulder towards the pieces he'd already claimed, before he scanned the rest of the arch, as if seeing just how badly damaged it was for the first time.

"How much usable scrap do you think we're going to pull from this thing?" Miller mused aloud.

"Not much," Macallan answered, before letting out a loud grunt of effort as he attempted to pry a bolt loose. "Half the panels burnt away. And what's left," - another grunt - "is mostly fused right onto the frame."

"You must have the bad side. Mine hasn't been that awkward," Miller answered, trying to hide his amusement at the faces that Macallan was pulling. A loud twang of metal signified that the bolt had at last popped free, right before Macallan's head popped instead by the look of him. "I'm going to take what I have down to the ground," Miller said. "Want me to come work that side with you?" he offered.

"You're good," Macallan answered, "You probably just haven't reached the bad parts on your side yet. Besides, Raven told us to try to keep the weight as even as possible on both sides."

Miller nodded, remembering the advice they'd been given. "Fair enough, I'll be back," he said, "Try not to explode your skull while I'm gone."

"I'll do my best. Just glad the new headache pills Dr Griffin gave me are working, or this would be my worst nightmare." To prove his point, Macallan started hammering again, each hit sending vibrations through the arch that Miller felt in the arm he had against the structure. He quickly righted himself before his teeth started chattering.

With the lift nearly at weight capacity, it was time to return briefly to the ground. Miller moved further onto the platform, dropping his hammer onto the wood, and then he gave a sharp tug on a piece of rope hanging by the pulleys at the back. The rope went all the way to the ground and had a makeshift bell attached at the end, to signal to those tasked with operating the lift that Miller wanted to descend. He waited and after a few seconds, the lift jerked and began to move down. Miller pressed his body against the panels he'd leaned up against the closed back of the platform, to prevent them from shifting on the slow journey down. He was surprised at just how long it seemed to take until the platform reached ground level. He grabbed the first piece of metal and carried it with him off the wooden structure and onto the solid ground. Before he could stop himself, Miller raised his head skywards, to assess just how high up he had been suspended. The sheer height of the wooden frame that had held him aloft made him dizzy from down here, and he wondered just how many trips up and down the whole job was going to take, and whether it would be worth it in the end.

A man came forward and claimed Miller's panel, and several other people moved past him to empty the platform of the rest. While Miller removed the scrap from the arch, people down here would be busy sorting the materials into piles, ready to be used for constructing their new, individual, dwellings. Miller took comfort in imagining the final result of all the hard work, and in the knowledge that once it was all done, he had decided for certain that he would be moving to the farm with Bryan. That promise alone was enough to make Miller feel refreshed, and he wiped his face over with a hand. Miller turned about and stepped back onto the now otherwise empty platform.

"Onwards and upwards," Miller said, to notify the two men operating the pulley system that he was ready to continue his work. As the platform began to raise, Miller retrieved his hammer and twirled it in his wrist like a knife. As he got higher and higher, the sounds of Macallan's work grew louder again and, barely audible underneath the racket, he could hear Macallan singing. Miller snickered and moved his hammer to his mouth, brandishing it like a microphone ready. When he reached the top he joined in with the song, though he only made it through a few exaggerated notes before Macallan had stopped singing and was instead flashing Miller the finger.

"Oh come on, I know my voice is showstopping but I was enjoying that," Miller muttered, pretending to look hurt, and then mocking absolute offense when Macallan grimaced at his statement. Miller could only pretend to be hurt when he knew for a fact he was a terrible singer. He and Macallan stared one another down a moment, before they broke into laughter simultaneously. They both returned to work, and, with the noise of two hammers to cover him, Miller hummed away to his heart's content.

* * *

The door between the main room of Clarke and Lexa's quarters and the bathroom hissed open and Clarke padded through. Her hands busied themselves drying her hair with a fluffy towel that was as crystal white as the rest of Europa. Clarke's mouth made an 'oh' as her slightly damp feet met the cold tile floor and she found herself wishing for the rugs back in the bedroom in Polis. She knew that lamenting every difference between here and home would only make the stay feel that much longer. And the room they'd been given wasn't exactly to be sniffed at. Situated on the bottom-most level of Chambre Centrale, it was spacious enough, with a double bed and a separate seating area. By the time Clarke and Lexa had diligently flicked off most of the lights it was almost cosy.

Clarke padded further into the living space, making a beeline for the steel chest of drawers that Lexa had already unpacked their belongings into. Lexa had lasted up until the handmaids had removed her spaulder for her, and then she had given up on propriety and dismissed them, intent on doing the rest of the chores herself. Clarke thought that it was probably an attempt to make the room feel a little more welcoming. Lexa was unpacking her belongings and with them her personality into an unfamiliar place. The only help Clarke had given was to place Lexa's weapons in the secure locker besides the drawers. It required that you set a passcode and had been beyond Lexa's patience.

As Clarke moved, she glanced over to the bed and found Lexa sitting right on its end, looking up at the ceiling rather sullenly. Lexa was still in her coat, it's fastenings untouched. Clarke almost said something, but decided to get herself changed first. She wasn't sure if it was actually as cold as it felt or if the sparse surroundings were making her feel it more, but the large towel wrapped around her body was doing nothing to stop her from shivering.

Upon reaching the drawers, Clarke finished drying her hair and tossed the towel to the floor, silently promising to move it later. Clarke guessed and opened the third drawer down and, just like at home, found her bed clothes inside nestled besides Lexa's. She felt herself smiling wryly as she tugged the towel loose and let that drop to the floor too, and Clarke tried to glance coyly over her shoulder to the bed.

If Lexa's sullen expression was alarming, her total lack of reaction to Clarke was even more troubling. A year into their relationship and Clarke knew for a fact that neither of them would rarely pass up the opportunity to ogle, especially when the chance was gifted like now. Realising that it was a chaste sort of comfort that Lexa must need at the moment and not anything else, Clarke made short work of putting on her longsleeve, blue cotton pyjamas and made her way to the bed to stand before Lexa.

"Lexa?" Clarke prompted gently.

Lexa hesitated before dropping her eyes from the ceiling to look at Clarke. She made a chagrined wince when their eyes met. "There's no escaping it, is there?" she asked quietly.

Clarke did not need to ask for clarification, she already knew what Lexa was talking about. "No," Clarke replied, "people aren't supposed to be this far underground. Not until their time's up, at least."

Lexa sniffed and shuffled on the mattress, signs of great distress from someone usually so poised. "The lack of windows is greatly troubling to me, Clarke," she admitted.

"Why?" Clarke asked, "In case the need to kick someone out of one arises?"

The joke garnered no response from Lexa. Instead the Commander glanced darkly back to the ceiling. Possibly she was trying to bore a hole right up to the surface with the power of her eyes alone.

Clarke watched forlornly and closed the distance between them and took both of Lexa's hands in her own, hoping that the contact would offer greater comfort than her expression. She was battling with her own reaction to the place too.

"I can't stand not hearing the weather outside," Lexa continued. "I miss the smell of rain blowing into the tower from the forest beyond the capital."

Clarke did manage a smile now; Lexa's words were wonderful in their simplistic beauty, even when delivered in an almost whiny tone. Clarke loved that Lexa took the time to notice such things, betraying a mind more artistically inclined than one would guess she possessed. "You're so poetic sometimes. I'm surprised you don't write these things down," Clarke teased. That at least was a familiar habit to fall back on.

"Maybe I do," Lexa retorted without missing a beat. "Maybe I just haven't shown you my secret journal yet."

Clarke puffed out a breath at that. "Do I want to know what else you've been writing odes to?" Clarke caught the mischievous twinkle in Lexa's eyes, the weariness in them subsiding just enough to set Clarke more at ease.

"Nothing worse than what you've sketched, niron," Lexa answered slyly.

Clarke considered a moment, taking in the sight of Lexa still clad in most of her regalia whilst Clarke was dressed ready for bed. That needed to change. "You know, this room might not have windows, but that doesn't mean it's totally without some nice views," Clarke announced and - the moment she saw one of Lexa's eyebrows shoot up in question - she stepped right up to the frame of the bed and straddled Lexa's lap, her arms looping around Lexa's shoulders. Lexa responded immediately by bringing her own hands up to Clarke's sides, fingers digging into their softness.

"You actually missed one such view while you were mooching. Do you want me to repeat the performance?" Clarke enquired.

Lexa's mouth parted and stayed that way a while before she responded. "I couldn't say no."

"Thought not. Alright, are you ready?" Clarke asked devilishly. She waited for Lexa to nod before dropping her chin against her chest to hide her face. When she looked up again, she did so cross-eyed, nose scrunched, and with her top teeth showing over her bottom lip.

Clarke felt Lexa's body shuddering as Lexa was overcome with laughter, the sound high and musical to the ear until it was interrupted by a most undignified snort. This set Clarke off and she untwisted her face just to join in with the giggles, neither of them stopping until they were breathless and red in the face.

"You are fortunate there is no wind down here, Clarke, otherwise your face might have stuck," Lexa stated, laughter giving way to pretend seriousness.

Clarke felt a pang of annoyance at having a phrase she had learned in childhood on the Ark, and since passed on to Lexa, thrown back at her. "Oh well. It might make the next meeting feel a little less stuffy than the first," Clarke lamented.

She heard Lexa sigh at that and the last vestiges of amusement vanished in an instant. As if thoroughly defeated by their day, Lexa sagged her head forward against Clarke's chest. They stayed like that a while, Clarke just glad to have Lexa to hold onto.

The comfortable silence was broken by a muffled string of what may have been words emanating from Lexa and Clarke furrowed her brow.

"Didn't get a word of that, darling," she said.

Clarke waited as Lexa gave a huff and picked her head back up. "I asked you how you were, Clarke."

"No, you asked my-"

"Heart," Lexa interjected firmly and then, "Please. You've allowed me to voice my thoughts to you. Let me return the favor," she implored, turning to genuine concern now.

Clarke looked for another joke to make to escape again but, finding none, she swallowed her stubbornness. She loathed bringing her troubles into their personal quarters, but unlike in the tower, this was their only truly private place. "I'm missing home more than I thought I would," she admitted. "Now that the truth of what Europa is has properly stamped out my excitement."

"You said that the decor reminds you of the Ark," Lexa pointed out.

Clarke grimaced. "It does a little. And I know my experiences there and in the Mountain are making this a little less jarring for me. But to be reminded of those places is to be reminded of a lot of things I prefer not to dwell on any longer. I felt physically sick when I first looked at that awful metal door," Clarke offered, voice meek and a little hoarse. "And besides, I don't ever think of the Ark as home anymore. Polis is my home. Polis Tower with its ridiculous open windows and its creaking elevator and its candles. I miss every damn one of them."

Lexa let out another laugh at that and Clarke yelped as she felt herself being pulled down onto the bed. After some shuffling and a few opportunistic pecks in between, Clarke and Lexa settled on their sides, heads propped up on elbows. At Lexa's insistence, Clarke was on the side of the bed that was flush against the wall, farthest from the door into the room and therefore protected from possible intruders by Lexa's body.

"You don't know how much it means to me to hear you call Polis home, Clarke. It doesn't matter how many times I hear it," Lexa mused.

Clarke tried to be grateful for the sweet words but she was still troubled. "You know I was imagining huge settlements on the ground. New architecture that I could fill a sketch pad with and take back to show Arkadia. My fault for getting my hopes up right?" she muttered darkly.

"We both did, Clarke," Lexa responded, her free hand moving to caress Clarke's forehead, as if to smooth out the worry lines there. "And we know now that Europa does exist above ground too. Maybe we will get chance to see it," Lexa continued.

Clarke did not respond, partly so that Lexa wouldn't stop her caressing.

"I detected nothing suspicious about President Dominique or the Delegates, though I admit there's time in our next meetings. I feel that making sense of Europa's history may fall to you, Clarke," Lexa prompted.

Clarke hummed, appreciating how Lexa knew to try and give her a renewed sense of purpose. "I'm ready," she said. "Whatever you need from me. I know that officially I just followed you here, but don't think for a minute I'll keep my m-" A thought occurred to Clarke then and she felt the storm cloud pass overhead, taking with it the rest of her attempt at pep talking herself. "You realise that Luna is probably notifying the President about our army as we speak? Maybe they are already sending their own force to those woods."

Clarke saw Lexa fight away a frown. "If their warriors are armed with sticks like the guards, they'll be no challenge," Lexa said. Clarke wasn't sure how serious she was being.

"You realise they are shock batons? Like what Skaikru guards use. They're pretty nasty things."

Lexa considered that, blinking slowly, "They'd still have to get in close enough to shock someone. It wouldn't be likely, not with our archers on lookout and-"

Clarke felt her attention drifting as Lexa fell into a full tactical rundown of how this supposed battle might play out. Though she still picked out a few words (enough to judge Lexa's logic as being sound as per usual) Clarke's gaze kept flitting past Lexa's shoulder to the bedpost. There were buttons built into the frame and Clarke was suddenly curious to know what they were for.

As Lexa detailed how the Kongeda would clinch their victory, Clarke pounced, throwing her body over Lexa's to hit the first button her index finger landed on. Lexa's groan was followed by a whirring noise and both of them gave a yelp as Lexa's half of the bed started to move, the top of the mattress lifting, forcing Lexa into a sitting position and causing Clarke to roll down onto her legs.

"Wasn't expecting that," Clarke said, picking herself up onto her knees. "Try the other buttons," she insisted.

Lexa gave a tut but did as requested of her, choosing the button to the right of the one Clarke had pressed. This lifted Clarke's side of the bed and Clarke immediately scooted to make herself comfortable. She watched Lexa jab another button and both of them jumped as a gap appeared in the metal wall across from the bed, panels they hadn't noticed sliding aside to reveal a screen.

"No way," Clarke whispered, feeling excitement bubble in her tummy. "Lexa, check the top drawer of the end table. Is there anything in there?"

Lexa did as asked again and she pulled a long black shape from the drawer. "Just this, uh, thingy."

Clarke beckoned to be passed the thingy and felt her excitement grow. Lexa had found the remote control. Clarke studied it a moment before stabbing the red button on top with her thumb. The screen flickered to life, immediately bringing up a menu of options.

"Let's hope they still do different languages on these things," Clarke said and she used her rudimentary knowledge of French to navigate the menu until she found and changed the words to English. Returning to where she started, Clarke immediately picked the movie sub-menu and was greeted with the alphabet. "Lexa, the Ark used to have a movie library like this," Clarke gasped lightly. She clicked a letter at random and a huge list of movies appeared. "I… I never thought I'd get to watch a movie again," Clarke said. Indeed the last time she had watched one was with Wells, before being imprisoned. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Clarke? What's a movie?" Lexa asked. To her credit she was looking at the screen with curiosity more than mistrust. Clearly she could detect Clarke's shift to a more positive mood even if she didn't understand the reason why.

"It's like a book but told with moving pictures," Clarke said and then because she could hardly wait, "Do you… do you want to watch one with me?"

Lexa smiled, "Of course," she said, "you know I enjoy finding out about how you spent your time on the Ark."

Clarke grinned back. "Well, go put your bed clothes on; you're way too overdressed. I'll find us something good."

Clarke watched as Lexa rose off the bed, hands already reaching to unclasp her coat. Satisfied that Lexa would know to hurry, Clarke set her sights back on the screen and picked her brain for something they could watch. She supposed she could find something she'd never seen before, but then she might not get this chance again and so she felt drawn to choosing one of her old favorites. In fact, there was really only one logical answer to the predicament.

By the time Clarke had searched for her choice and paused it ready to go, Lexa was changed into her own pyjamas, long and wooly black ones that made the Commander look nothing short of adorable. Clarke settled herself in the middle of the bed, back against the raised mattress, and she patted the space between her legs. Needing no further encouragement, Lexa climbed onto the mattress, pulling the covers over them before settling against Clarke's chest.

"What is this movie about?" Lexa asked.

Clarke tried not to scoff, "Babe, you find that out by sitting and watching it."

"You seem to be taking this very seriously, niron."

"Of course. I'm about to show you my favorite movie," Clarke said haughtily. "Now are you ready?"

Lexa nodded. Apparently, Clarke stressing that this was her favorite had done the trick and she trusted that Lexa would remain quiet. Well, until she need things explaining to her. Clarke had to admit that her choice was likely to raise more than a few puzzled questions.

Clarke jabbed at the play button and the moment the the opening fanfare started, Clarke was grinning and humming along, remembering all the times she and Wells had done the very same thing before. Next, that unmistakable green font against black and then, the iconic blue. It read:

 _A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away._

Clarke felt herself tense in expectation and then that initial, soaring note swelled in the room, startling Lexa just a little. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa's middle and held her close, bringing her mouth to Lexa's ear to read the opening crawl. She found she remembered most of it by heart; "Star Wars, Episode four, A New Hope. It is a period of civil war..." Clarke dictated.

Lexa watched, enraptured, and stayed that way for the duration. Clarke found that the movie did wonders like it always had, taking all of her worries away for that brief time and transporting her elsewhere. And to share that journey of the mind with Lexa was more precious than Clarke had ever counted on.

* * *

The small square meeting room inside Kaigo's longhouse, situated behind the throne room, appeared even tinier with Mearas present. Her broad figure loomed in the limited space, her back blocking most of the sunlight that entered the room through the slit windows behind her. As a result, Kaigo had to strain his eyes to see the map of the Kongeda he had laid over the lone table, for Mearas was casting a dark shadow over the canvas.

With the Exodus Army well rested after ten days camped around Mission, and the combat trained residents of the settlement ready to follow Kaigo's lead, it was time to plan their next move. So far, Kaigo had explained the layout of the thirteen clans and detailed the current political structure of the Kongeda to Mearas. Talking of the clans as one united force still seemed foreign to Kaigo. He remembered life in Ingranrona before the Kongeda, before Lexa's ascension. Serving as Horsemaster to the Southern Caste had been a difficult, but worthy calling. His people's territory had bordered with Sankru, and land disputes between the clans were frequent and bloody. Having spent fourteen years in the wastes, Kaigo now understood why those clans with the harshest territories tended to be the most ruthless. Azgeda was another example of a harsh climate creating a harsh society. And now, the Exodus too was part of that pattern.

Kaigo had to admit that the peace that Lexa had achieved by forming the Kongeda was impressive. By encouraging open trade of resources to stop the need to fight for them, the warring clans had, eventually, ceased. It was a great achievement, even from an outsider's perspective (his exile had come a whole seven years before Lexa took command, back when Toman ruled Trikru). But it was also insulting. The thirteen clans shared and had plenty, and still they gave no thought to those they had cast out. The scars that the clans had left on the exiles ran too deep. Kaigo was surprised at all Lexa had achieved, but that did not pardon her. Justice would be done and the Kongeda would fall.

The years upon years of constant warfare between clans had left scars too. Kaigo didn't think for a minute that a year of peace was enough to heal such deep-rooted resentments. If Lexa fell, her precious union would follow. That gave the Exodus and Mission one very clear target.

"If we reach the capital, if we take Polis, the Kongeda will crumble before us," Kaigo stated now, pointing the location of the capital city out on the map.

Mearas leaned over and inspected the area he had identified. "That is a long way. We will not be able to reach Polis undetected with such a large force."

Kaigo considered a moment, a deep frown upon his face. His finger swept across the canvas from Polis up to Azgeda. "We might be able to avoid detection if we take a route through Azgeda," he suggested, "the territory is large and sparsely populated."

"And deathly cold, I assume?" Mearas asked.

Kaigo gave a nod. "It would slow us down," he admitted.

Mearas shook her head and placed her hands on her hips, the angle of her elbows making her seem even more immense. "No, it is too far, and, were we detected, it would give them too great an opportunity to muster their forces to block our path. We have surprise on our side; we shouldn't squander that by skulking, but use it to create chaos. If we carve a path straight to Polis, fear will slow the Kongeda's response down. By the time an army large enough to meet us has gathered, we will be at their capital's doors."

It was a bold idea, but Kaigo supposed he should have expected no less from Mearas. And he had seen the Exodus force. Even if the Kongeda managed to raise its entire army in time to put up a defense of the capital, they would be outnumbered. Outnumbered and taken completely off guard. More than that, the more people the Exodus slaughtered on the journey to Polis, the bigger Lexa's failure to defend her people would be. If enough innocents were killed, totally without warning, it wouldn't be beyond the Kongeda to move against its own leader and do half of the Exodus's job for them.

"In that case, I suggest we carve our path right through Ingranrona territory, to the Trikru border in the east," Kaigo suggested.

"That is your old territory, Heda Kaigo. Are you sure you will be able to do what is necessary?" Mearas enquired.

Kaigo looked up from the map squarely into Meras's eyes. "I will. They mean nothing to me anymore. And my knowledge of Ingranrona tactics will give us a greater advantage than if we attacked another clan," Kaigo swore, meaning every word. He motioned to the west of Ingranrona, where it bordered with the wastes. "We take out the Western Caste first. They will be camped here," - he pointed to a blue splotch of paint on the map that represented a lake - "around the banks of _Nomeitpoda_ at this time of year. If we are swift, we may be able to prevent word of the slaughter spreading. Ingranrona rely on fire beacons to call for aid from other castes. And even if word does get out, it would be suicide for the rest of Ingranrona to face us alone, without the aid of the other clans. We will march on as they scrabble to raise their defenses."

Mearas flashed a smile, something so rare that it only made them chilling when they did appear. "Your knowledge is impressive, Heda Kaigo, and will serve us well," she praised. Kaigo gave a nod of thanks. "With you and your people helping to lead this attack, we will reach Polis with victories already at our back. We will destroy the Commander and take the capital as our own. From there, we can defend the city as the Kongeda burns around us."

"It may not need to burn," Kaigo said, an idea occurring to him. "The clans respect strength. If you kill Lexa, the Kongeda may wish to swear loyalty to you."

Mearas growled. "They may try," she sneered, "but it will not secure them any mercy from me. That land will belong to the Exodus. I will not invite more suffering by taking on more mouths to feed. And surely you wish the Kongeda destroyed totally?"

"Of course," Kaigo replied quickly. "It's just possible that events may unfold like that. We should be prepared. No matter what, their lands will be ours and our society will flourish." Kaigo dared to give one of his winning smirks then. "We will need a new name," he pointed out.

" _Olympus_ ," Mearas stated immediately. Resolutuely, so that Kaigo knew he could not argue. "My people first gathered at the foot of Mount Olympus, after the nuclear war. That will be the name of our new home. It has been foretold."

Kaigo's smirk vanished and he ground his teeth together. Still, he remained silent.

"Are we in agreement on how to proceed?" Mearas asked into the quiet.

"Yes," Kaigo said.

"Very well. Messengers have been sent out to advise the non-combatant camp to catch up to us here. With your permission, they will remain camped at Mission, along with those of your people who cannot fight," Mearas revealed.

Kaigo blinked, digesting the new information, trying not to let his temper flare at not being informed of a second Exodus camp earlier. Not once in the ten days since the Exodus had arrived had Mearas mentioned the second force, nor that she'd already sent riders out to bring them to Mission. "Non-combatant camp?" he asked, hoping for further clarification.

"Yes, five hundred elders, children and caretakers. They follow behind the army, once it has been confirmed that the next leg of the journey is safe to cross," Mearas gave in explanation.

"That seems a small number, given the size of your combatant force," Kaigo observed immediately. It was the first of several other questions he had. He saw Mearas's lips tighten, as if she was pained to reveal more information about the people who would be staying in Kaigo's home. He prepared to insist.

"All adults of fighting age and ability are part of the army. Those than cannot fight, either because they lack the skill or the physical ability, form the caretaker class. The caretakers of the Exodus look after our old and young, and perform other labor necessary to making our society function. But they are few in comparison to the warrior class. It was decided, in order to make the crossing easier, that all couples would be limited to producing one child alone. This, along with the warrior's sense of duty over family, has sufficiently reduced the size of the next generation to make the Exodus possible," Mearas described. "As I told you before, Kaigo, everyone has their place, and every place is crucial. The Exodus required sacrifice to be successful. There will be time to boost our numbers again once the war is won."

Kaigo saw the logic in the way the Exodus operated, even if it put him on edge. Controlling population numbers through law felt like the same kind of ruthlessness shown by the Kongeda. And Kaigo had to wonder how a society so clearly bred for war would adjust once the battle was over. Despite these worries, the Exodus were Kaigo's chance to make the Kongeda answer for their crimes. They were his chance to secure a future for his people within the Exodus's new society. Within _Olympus._ All this had been set into motion and could not be undone. He would not look back. "The sooner we achieve our victory, the better then, General. We can make it to _Nomeitpoda_ in a matter of hours."

Mearas stared at Kaigo, the low light making her eyes look black on her pale face. Her right hand moved from her hip and drew a dagger from the sheath on her chestguard. Kaigo tried not to jump as Mearas immediately stabbed downwards, driving the point of the dagger through the canvas map, right where Polis was marked. There was an awful splitting noise as the weapon burrowed into the wooden tabletop and there Mearas left the dagger. "Muster your forces, Heda Kaigo. The plan is agreed and we march immediately."

* * *

The noise emanating from inside the walls of Arkadia was constant, ringing out through the air. Despite how difficult it was to ignore the sounds of Arkadia's future being built from the wreck of its past, Octavia tried. She poured all of her focus into the scene before her; the kids chattering away to one another. With Octavia's directions having lapsed for a while as she battled to concentrate through the racket, the class had drifted away from the topic of their lesson and acquiesced to random, excitable jabbering. The numerous conversations sounded over one another, forming a garbled mixture of the two languages that she had no hope of following.

Octavia had held lessons every other day so far, teaching the children of the camp the basics first. All of them were young, under ten, and they learned quickly, their brains far more adaptable than any adults'. It thrilled Octavia to see the two groups be able to talk to one another properly, for while she often erred towards actions rather than words, she still understood that it was the latter that would have more power in defining the future of the Kongeda.

With the camp exterior filled to bursting today, Octavia had elected to bring the children out beyond the gates for their lessons. It was also the easiest way she had thought of to keep them from getting underfoot of the people working on the arch. So far, Octavia had busied her pupils by getting them to talk to one another about the differences between growing up on the ground and in space. Though the children's observations had been relatively simple to make them easier to learn in each other's tongue, Octavia had found listening to both groups to be quite compelling. It had struck her how all of her pupils had in their formative years, experienced an actual childhood.

The Skaikru children had explained about going to school back on the Ark, and told the Trikru children how they'd learned all about the ground before ever coming down here. Octavia had experienced none of that, and she felt in retrospect that the lesson she'd chosen had been more revelatory for herself than it had been for her pupils. As the Skaikru children had detailed their experiences, Octavia had been struck with just how much she'd not gotten the chance to see and feel for herself. She'd always known she'd missed things. Going to playgroup and then school. Making her first childhood friends. Birthday parties. Realising for the very first time that the big blue and green sphere outside the windows was actually a whole planet and being scared half to death by the thought. Actually hearing firsthand from those who had lived these things was something Octavia hadn't prepared for. More than that, Octavia realised now how unprepared she had been in comparison the other delinquents from the Sky Box. All of them had gone to school since they were toddlers. Octavia may have been enrolled in classes upon her existence being discovered, but how many Earth Skills lessons or Earth History lessons had she missed by then? Octavia admitted to herself that it was these musings that had her preoccupied, the noise of her own brain even more insistent than those coming from the settlement.

Octavia's survival on the ground was nothing short of a major achievement. She had to take stock of that, and she doubted that once her duties as teacher were done for the day, she would be able to rest when the weight of these realisations were playing so heavily on her mind. In the ten days she had been teaching so far, she hadn't really stopped and considered what a privilege the position was. She'd been denied a proper childhood, but here she was, helping these kids through theirs and, hopefully, preparing them for their lives down on the ground. Octavia couldn't think of a more rewarding way to spend her years. And she couldn't wait for Lincoln to find out that she'd found her calling.

The thought of Lincoln brought unwanted tears to Octavia's eyes and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand before they could fall and alarm her pupils. Still, Octavia wondered every day if Lincoln was on his way back, though she did not hold it against him for being gone so long. Lincoln had been away from his people and his culture for such an extended period of time, and Octavia could only imagine the peace he had felt upon returning to it for a while. She wouldn't wish him away from that for a second. Still, if he didn't return in the next couple of days, Octavia thought she might just have to go and join him in Polis for a while. It would be good for her to see Indra. She was sure her old mentor would be pleased to hear of her newfound responsibilities too.

"Ticha Octavia?" one of the older Trikru girls, Hatti, prompted, breaking away from the group to lightly tap on Octavia's forearm.

Octavia met the girl's eyes and gave a smile, "Sha?"

The girl smiled back and responded in gonasleng, "Are you alright? You look-" Hatti paused there, searching for the word in a language still so new to her.

"Distracted?" Octavia offered to no avail and then, with a shrug, "Sad?"

"Sad. Yes," Hatti confirmed.

"I'm not sad. I'm just thinking too hard about things," Octavia tried to explain. She said the same thing again in trigedasleng, and Hatti nodded.

"She misses Lincoln," another voice piped up. It was Charlie's, the boy who'd scraped his knee. Octavia should have known from the vigor of the tackle she saw Charlie perform that he would be a handful, and he tended to be especially blunt about things that perhaps should be left unsaid.

Octavia folded her arms across her chest, protecting herself from the cruelly accurate perceptions of children. She peered down at the boy's face and then scanned the rest of her class to find that they were all looking back at her. Waiting for her to confirm that what Charlie said was true. There was little point delaying and Octavia let out a sigh. "I do," she admitted. The response was several 'ahhs' and about as many disgusted scoffs.

"Will he be back from Polis soon?" Charlie asked. "You could visit him. We could all go with you!" This idea earned approval across the board, except from Octavia herself.

Octavia quickly masked a look of absolute horror at the thought of trying to shepherd a gaggle of kids through Polis market unscathed. "You know, I think I need a little more practice at this before I arrange any field trips," Octavia said as gently as she could. Before anyone could think to press the matter, Octavia continued, "Right, I think it's time for the next lesson," she announced, "since you've all been doing so well- _krei os-_ why don't we have a little more fun?"

Leaving the question hanging for a bit, Octavia pulled a backpack off her shoulders and unzipped it, turning it upside down so that the ball inside fell out and went bouncing over the grass. "Skaikru, you're going to teach Trikru how to play soccer. I want to hear you using both languages to explain the rules. Now get yourselves into mixed teams."

Octavia grinned as she watched the kids shuffle themselves into two teams of seven, and she hoped that she hadn't just unleashed an utter disaster. Dr Griffin would not be impressed if after suggesting the role to Octavia, Arkadia's new teacher turned up with fourteen scraped up pupils in tow.

* * *

Emori followed behind Murphy as he led her beyond the perimeter of Mission; a perimeter that had grown considerably with the Exodus army making camp around the main circle of buildings and tents. The sudden explosion of action within Mission could mean only one thing: the Exodus's week long respite was over and the time had come for the army to march. Kaigo had spent the past ten days mustering his forces, and as if he had suspected Emori and Murphy's intentions, he had kept Olli close besides him at all times. As a result, neither of them had seen the boy long enough to make their plans known to him. At least until today, when Kaigo had spent hours locked up in his longhouse alone with Mearas, before the resulting call to arms had swept through Mission. Emori silently prayed that Olli would be where Murphy thought he might, now that he'd escaped Kaigo's careful watch.

The two of them came to a natural outcropping, and sure enough, Emori breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted Olli sitting up on a ledge. Murphy clambered up the rocks without waiting for an invitation to do so and Emori followed suit. They did not have much time.

"Hey, kid," Murphy started once he'd pulled himself upright. Emori stood at his side, careful not to get too close to the edge of the outcropping.

Olli looked up at both of them with narrowed eyes, and he used his left hand to support himself as he shuffled backwards until he was right in the corner of the ledge. "What are you doing here? I don't want to see anyone," Olli moaned.

"You're missing the party," Emori said, feeling her heart lurch for the boy. "Mearas has announced that the Exodus is to go on the march. And your people with them. The settlement's crazy right now."

"Then I should return to my father and help him make the last preparations," Olli muttered. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"That's not why we came to find you, Olli," Murphy blurted out.

"Olli, when the army moves out, we'll have our opportunity to run," Emori announced, her voice grave. She moved towards Olli and sat cross-legged in front of him. "Come with us when we do," she requested.

Olli did not respond right away, merely glancing from Emori, up to Murphy and back again. He bent his knees up to his chest. "No."

"Olli, you'll have to fight alongside your father," Murphy pointed out, "and I think you see the same thing we do. Your father is being used by Mearas. She'll offer your people up first as cannon fodder. You'll all be killed long before the Exodus takes the Kogeda. If you do not run with us, you will die."

"Then I die!" Olli barked, "I will not desert Mission. I will not leave Father."

"Even when you know he is leading you all to your doom? Surely you can't support what he's doing?" Emori asked, trying to be gentle about it. She had to commend the boy on his loyalty to the settlement. It reminded her of the bond she'd had with Otan, though they'd not been blood siblings. Olli's continued support of Kaigo though was troubling, even when it was understandable that someone so young would struggle to break free of even the most dangerous family ties.

"Of course I don't want him to do this," Olli snapped, "but I can't change his mind if I'm not with him, can I?"

Emori saw Olli's logic, though it still had its flaws. "And if you can't change his mind?" she asked, "Will you be able to stick by him all the way to Polis? You know what will be expected of you. If you march with the Exodus, you will have to fight with them too. You will have to kill with them. They mean to slaughter innocent people."

That did make Olli waiver, his mouth falling ajar and his eyes avoiding Emori's. "Nobody in the Kongeda is innocent," he muttered to the ground.

Olli was right. Barring the children, everyone in the Kongeda was complicit in the society's treatment of the clanless. Emori knew they had no time to continue discussing such a complex matter, so she dropped the subject and tried her request again; "Look, we'll move out with the army and steal all the supplies we need. We can disappear. Murphy and I are good at that, we'll keep you safe."

"Or we can warn Polis of the Exodus. Try talking, like you've always wanted," Murphy interjected.

Emori scowled and turned her head to look up at Murphy. He at least had the decency to kneel down then, to make it less of a strain for her to shoot daggers at him. "We never discussed doing that," Emori snapped, despite knowing that disagreeing with Murphy would only weaken the argument they were trying to put forward.

Murphy gave a nonchalant shrug, "It's an idea," he said.

"What if I don't think the Kongeda should be warned?" Emori asked. She wasn't sure she knew the answer to her own question. She might despise Kaigo for his insistence on leading the charge, but Emori agreed that the Kongeda needed to answer for its actions in some way.

"You really think the clanless would fare any better under the Exodus? You think that they will keep their word and invite you around their newly acquired hearths?" Murphy enquired, softly rather than in lecture.

Emori closed her eyes a moment and counted her breaths. "I don't," she admitted, "but that still doesn't mean we should risk our lives trying to gain an audience in Polis. We are supposed to be escaping from politics, not running towards more."

"Will you both stop?" Olli interrupted the couple. Emori turned back to the boy in shock at the force in his voice. "Listen to you both. Have you even thought any of this through? Why would I want to run away into another part of the wastes with you? I'd be worse off than I am now. And _you_ _two_ might get away with trespassing in the Kongeda, but I won't. I'm still an exile. I'll be executed before I ever make it to Polis," Olli insisted, " or if we do make it," - Olli laughed sardonically - "well maybe I'll have the honor of being executed by the Commander herself."

The boy had several very valid arguments on his side and Emori realised that she and Murphy had failed. They'd failed even before they'd started sniping at each other. Olli had far too much honor, probably more than the couple combined, and he was not going to run away from his people no matter their fate. It made Emori feel sick, and she found she could no longer look at Olli, for the sight of him instilled in her such a sense of helplessness. She loathed feeling helpless, and so she picked herself up from the ledge and wordlessly climbed back to the ground. Emori paused once she was at the bottom, and sure enough, Murphy came too.

"You should probably get back to the settlement," Murphy called back up to Olli.

There was quiet, and the pair of them made to move off. "Where are you two going?" Olli asked then.

Emori and Murphy stopped in their tracks, their eyes meeting. It was Emori who delivered the plan they'd decided upon, if Olli refused to run with them as he just vehemently had. "I guess we are going to pledge our lives to your father and get ourselves ready to march," Emori said. "We want to protect you, Olli. And if you insist on fighting a lost cause, then I guess we'll just have to have your back and hope for a miracle."

"Though given our track record," Murphy added, "I wouldn't hold out for one."

* * *

Raven clambered up the ladder that led up to a guard tower using only one hand, the other clamped around a metal tumbler of water that she was intent on getting to the top unspilled. She balanced easily on her foot and prosthesis, body pressed right against the metal, and reached for the next rung, gripping it tightly as her legs moved and took her up with measured one-two steps. She could not keep the satisfied look off her face as she climbed, and the smugness morphed into a full grin as her free hand finally grasped the edge of the metal catwalk at the top of the ladder. A year ago, such a climb would have been impossible for her. She remembered how she had tried and failed to hoist herself up the communication tower. The action wasn't out of her reach anymore, but she noted how simple a thing it was to be so thankful for. As she climbed up onto the catwalk, momentarily depositing the tumbler on the surface to make it easier, Raven mentally reminded herself to make sure that any building designs she planned would be totally accessible.

Back on a solid surface, Raven retrieved the drink and walked along the short catwalk. She reached the door into the small hut atop the tower, opened it and went inside.

"What up, acting Guard Captain?" Raven sang out to the tower's lone resident.

Harper turned away from the window that overlooked the camp and flashed a smile. "Good day, Chief Engineer."

"Look at you in your tower, pretending to be busy," Raven said. "I thought your boss would have delegated the harder work to his second in command. That's basically what your role exists for, right?"

Harper gave a scoff. "Don't you worry. It's my turn up there once Miller's ready for a break," she replied, "we both know Miller wanted the honor of being the first person to start the deconstruction. I'm surprised he didn't ask for a ribbon to cut."

Raven snorted. "I think the ribbon comes when we've completed the new build," she pondered. "Guess you'll be glad to know that Macallan's lift definitely reached the top first."

"Oh, thanks for telling me. Miller _will_ hear about that," Harper promised. "Anyways, look at you coming up here and telling an on-duty guard that she's only pretending to look busy. I'm on watch. The more pertinent issue is; why are you up here teasing me when you should be down there giving your orders to your newly acquired engineering team?" Harper asked matter-of-factly.

"Have you seen how damn high those elevators are?" Raven replied incredulously, pulling a face. "Even my pipes wouldn't shout that far."

"That's a shame. You're good when you're being demanding," Harper teased, and then, "and yes, I have noticed how high up I'm going to be when it's my turn on one of those things. Thanks for the reminder."

"Now don't forget that when you are on shift, I'll be your boss," Raven warned in jest, wagging a finger for extra effect. "So it would be wise not to sass me, Harper McIn- Wait, do you have a middle name?"

Harper reached out and grabbed Raven's finger. "Nah. Never bothered to choose a new one," she said, before gently pushing the brandished finger out of the air, until Raven's hand was at her side.

"Ok then, have I made myself clear, acting Guard Captain Harper McIntyre?"

Harper smirked and let go of Raven's finger. "Yes, Boss."

"Good," Raven stated. Remembering why she had ventured up here to begin with, she offered the tumbler to Harper. "Here, I bought you this," she said, feeling a sudden onset of sheepishness as she brought attention to the gesture. "Sorry it isn't anything stronger. But like you say, you're on-duty. And if you got wasted and fell off the elevator, I would probably miss you."

Harper shook her head, but smiled as she took the water from Raven. She took a long drink before saying anything else. "Thanks, Raven," she said sincerely, without specifying if it was gratitude for the drink or Raven's backhanded way of admitting she cared. Raven watched as Harper downed the rest of the water, before clearing her throat and turning back towards the window. "I guess I can forgive you for escaping a while. It looks hectic down there."

Raven moved to Harper's side and looked out of the window too, murmuring her agreement. Harper was right, the exterior looked packed from their vantage point. The residents of Arkadia had filled every bit of available space left between the various outbuildings that had sprung up and fleshed out the settlement over the year. Depending on how much material could be salvaged from the arch, some of the newer buildings might not last that long at all. Their walls may be needed elsewhere if Raven's vision was to come to fruition. "It's weird to think how it's all going to change," Raven thought outloud. She saw Harper's head bob in agreement in her peripheral vision.

"Stranger for the people who've been here the whole year, though," Harper pointed out. "We haven't really had chance to properly settle yet. I just can't wait to see what you've cooked up for us."

"No pressure," Raven laughed out.

"Raven, you live for pressure. I don't know if it's inspiring or petrifying how well you thrive under it," Harper retorted.

Raven shrugged, "When in doubt, swing for both."

" _Raven_ ," Harper snickered the name.

"Float, I walked into that," Raven conceded, "not that you needed that advice. Though maybe I should say 'swing for _all_ '." She paused a second, letting the amusement linger before getting serious again, "I suppose you've got a point about me. I just don't want to disappoint anyone." She frowned when she realised she might just have invited a pep talk that she wasn't really in the mood for. "You know, I asked Monty if he had any requests for his house and the fool said he wanted a slide," Raven announced, moving the subject along quickly.

Harper laughed brightly. "Of course he did."

"I think he was probably joking but I don't care. I'm building him that slide," Raven swore.

"Do it," Harper let out. "Why stop there? Just build a massive spiral one in the middle of the settlement. I can't think of a better use for all the building materials," Harper encouraged.

Harper had a knack for egging people on which Raven didn't mind at all. Raven wondered if Harper, who was a more relaxed person about most things than Raven could comprehend being, was getting her fix of drama vicariously through her. Either way, Raven had learned from a year of road tripping together that they balanced out nicely, a fact that lended itself to the strength of their bond. "You're right, Harper. I'll have to tell Monty he's a genius. Credit where credit's due," Raven answered.

"You should. He is a genius," Harper responded, her voice noticeably less animated. "He actually gave me some advice last week," she almost whispered.

Raven felt her heart quicken as she recalled the conversation she'd had with Monty. She'd gotten so wrapped up in finishing her plans and getting the elevators designed and built, that she'd put the discussion totally out of mind. Raven pushed away the sneaking feeling of guilt that tried to seep into her at her tendency to sometimes neglect things outside of her projects. She was here with Harper now. Raven turned her head and looked up into Harper's face. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He was worried about me," Harper muttered, her own eyes remaining fixed on the window like she might regret saying anything already. Still, she went on, "He thought I might be distracting myself with 'project wingwoman', so that I don't have to face my own baggage."

"I see," Raven said, remembering that she'd advised Monty not to take his concerns to Harper. It was done now, and Raven didn't know whether to act oblivious, or to reveal her own point of view. She supposed she would appreciate honesty were she in Harper's position. "Actually, Monty came to speak to me about his concerns first," she revealed.

Harper did turn her head to look down at Raven now, a deep frown on her face.

"You talk about your friends when you are worried about them," Raven justified. "I didn't think that we should voice our thoughts to you though, in honesty."

"Why not?" Harper asked.

"Because, I know what grieving someone you loved is like. I think it's better to let people get on with it however they want to," Raven explained.

"I don't know. Maybe you are both right," Harper mumbled, "or maybe it's different for you and me. You'd known Finn since you were a kid. I'd been dating Zoe for two months. Not exactly comparable."

"Harper, as much as my mechanical self would love to be able to quantify stuff like that, you're talking bull. If it was real, it doesn't matter how long you knew each other. If anything, you've got to contend with a hell of a lot more 'what ifs' because you lost someone so quickly."

"I guess," Harper conceded. "Well, know that I'm not angry. At either of you. You've both made your points now. It's up to me who's advice I act on, right? And I am ready. I do want to move on, however the floating hell you're supposed to start doing that."

"Don't ask me," Raven warned. "Both times I tried to move on from Finn ended in disaster. Well, the second was a disaster. The first attempt was just plain forgettable."

Harper gasped. "Burn," she said, sounding decidedly more pleased than offended.

"So, in my opinion, it's good that you've actually taken the time to collect yourself before rushing ahead. That took guts, and strength I could only dream of having."

Harper shook her head as if disappointed and gently nudged Raven's bicep with a fist. "Now you're the one talking rubbish," she chided. "Raven, you're one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever met," she said, sounding terrifyingly genuine about it all to Raven's ears. "You definitely know that. But sometimes it's like you forget it and doubt yourself entirely."

Raven realised she was chewing on her tongue, trying not to let herself feel too moved. "I guess, sometimes, I just need to be reminded by someone. I need to hear it from an outside source," Raven let out, giving a sort of smirk to downplay the loaded words.

"You just did," Harper responded with aplomb, "and if you need to hear it again, then come find me and I'll-"

The rest of Harper's vow was lost under the sudden, ear-splitting sound of groaning metal, echoing into the guardtower from the camp outside. Raven's mouth fell open in a question she did not ask, and she turned away from Harper to peer out of the window. The groan was followed by a brief silence that seemed even louder that the noise had, and then with another great wail of buckling steel, the whole world outside the viewpoint turned to chaos.

Raven watched in stunned silence as the arch of Alpha station began to bend forward, bringing the end of the wreck up and away from the mountainside. It towered briefly in the sky before giving under its own weight, the arch toppling to the ground diagonally. The guardtower shuddered violently underfoot as the wreck crashed down, pulverising anything that happened to be underneath it. Raven noticed a water tower toppling, it's contents busting out, and then the whole view was obscured by a great cloud of dust that rose up in the immediate aftermath of the fall. Eventually the plumes subsided, and Raven was barely aware that she was screaming as she looked out over what had once been Arkadia and was now little more than a twisted wreckage, as if the station hadn't ever survived the crash landing on Earth. Raven's screams were quickly followed by more, the sounds of anguished wails of pain and loss and shock sounding from outside, the next movement in a catastrophic symphony.

Lungs running clean out of air, Raven went silent, feeling her whole body go limp. She felt herself being caught before she fell, Harper's arms wrapping themselves tightly about her frame, Harper calling Raven's name over and over. Raven did not respond. She felt bile rise to the back of her throat as she stared out over the wreck of the main building. At the sea of water from the destroyed tower had waterlogged the ground. At the debris of the fall that had scattered far and wide and decimated most of the outbuildings for good measure. The guardtower remaining intact was a miracle that Raven couldn't even process right now, let alone be thankful for. There was no relief to be found for her. As she looked out on the carcass of their home, Raven wasn't in a guard tower anymore. She was watching helplessly as her only family died right before her eyes at the hands of the woman he had chosen over her. She was trapped in a faulty airlock while three months of precious oxygen leaked out into space behind her, all for a stupid bit of fun. She was a young girl, totally neglected by her mother. Unwanted. Unneeded. And it was little surprise. The wreck of Arkadia taunted Raven alongside all her previous failures, just one more thing to add to that list.


	7. Situation Normal

**7\. Situation Normal**

Harper clutched tightly to Raven, repeating her name over and over. She willed Raven to hear her pleas with every fiber of her being. "Raven! Raven, please, listen to me, it's going to be ok, Raven. Raven we have to go down there, we have to help everyone!" Harper tried her best not to let her voice rise to a desperate screech as she spoke right against Raven's ear.

Something she said must have at last gotten through, for Raven seemed able to take her own weight again. Confident that Raven wouldn't topple if she let go of her waist, Harper instead moved her hands to Raven's face and urged her to look away from the window and at her instead, "Our friends need our help," Harper repeated, sure that it was this fact that had brought Raven around.

Raven's eyes would have looked dead if not for the tears streaming from them. She sniffed loudly, the muscles in her face trembling under Harper's hands. "Help who, Harper?" she croaked out, "Look out there!" Raven jabbed a finger out, pointing beyond the window. She jerked away from Harper's grasp then, a sudden wave of grievous rage overtaking her, like a switch had been flicked inside her. Harper let Raven have at it. Awful as it was to think in such a way, her newfound anger would be of more use right now. "There won't be anyone left alive under that mess, Harper!" Raven screamed, "I did this!"

"No!" Harper protested, her hands balled into fists before her body as she fought the urge to chase Raven down and hold her again. "We can help those who are trapped. There are survivors already down there, Raven, listen!" Harper implored, and she paused then so that both of them could listen to the shouting and screaming coming from the camp. Her point proven, Harper spoke more gently; "This isn't your fault. That wreck was probably due to come down at any time," Harper reasoned.

Raven scowled and shook her head, "No," she hissed, "it came down now because I couldn't leave well enough alone."

Harper's body felt like it was on fire, desperate to get moving, to start helping. She knew she'd run out of time to reason with Raven and that only added to the bubbling frustration. She choked it all back down. "This isn't on you, Raven," Harper insisted. She took a breath and tried to measure her voice before she said the next part, "But if you stay up here screaming at me, rather than getting your ass down there to help, then anything that happens after this point _will_ be."

An awful feeling of static filled the air once Harper had said her piece. She watched Raven's face contort into a snarl. Raven wheeled about, letting out a howl as she slammed both palms hard against the metal wall of the guardtower. The force made the hut vibrate all over again.

"Come on!" Raven growled out, showing no signs of having felt any pain even though she must have. "Let's get down there."

Harper puffed out a breath and nodded, and the pair of them rushed through the door and along the catwalk towards the ladder. When they reached it, Harper pushed herself in front and started to descend. When Raven followed, Harper surrounded Raven's body with her own, staying only one rung down so that she would be able to catch Raven's weight were her legs to fail her again. Thankfully, both of them made it to the bottom safely, and with her boots on the ground, Harper turned and took in her first look at the catastrophe from ground level.

Somehow, it looked even worse down on the ground. Or rather, it was worse because there was hardly anything to look at anymore. What had once been a reasonably impressive settlement to behold was now flattened. The main building was almost completely buried by the arch, and the toppled wreck of Alpha station had pulverized most of the right half of the settlement too. The garden and the food stores were gone, squashed beneath the twisted metal. Harper turned away from the disaster and began to move, hanging a left and pulling Raven along with her by the arm. Their footsteps squelched on the sodden grass, the precious stores from one of the water towers totally wasted.

Mercifully, the left side of the settlement was much less scathed. Though flying debris had taken out or otherwise damaged many of the outbuildings on that side, the falling arch had missed the areas close to the wall. It was there that Harper began to direct Raven, for a crowd of survivors had started to gather on the pitch, no doubt ready and waiting for orders on how to proceed.

"Harper! Raven!" Octavia's voice called out from behind.

Harper stopped and blinked Octavia into focus, realising that the sight of the wreck had put her into some kind of trance. "Octavia?" Harper tried. Her mouth fell open when she remembered what Octavia had been doing, "The children?"

"All fine," Octavia answered right away. "Thank fate I was teaching them outside the walls. What the hell happened?"

Harper's eyes widened and she shook her head, before cocking it towards Raven, who hadn't uttered another word since the tower. Harper saw Octavia gulp before she gave a nod, understanding that Harper was silently asking her to watch her words.

"We should go to the others," Octavia said, "I've told the kids to stay outside the walls. The older ones are in charge."

Harper agreed and let Octavia walk ahead, until she spied Monty picking himself up off the ground by one of of the wrecked storehouses. The one that once contained his moonshine equipment. Harper called to Octavia and momentarily passed care of Raven over to her, before rushing to Monty's side.

"Monty, are you alright?" Harper asked. Her friend looked dazed and was covered from head to foot in mud, but appeared otherwise unscathed.

Monty gave a nod, mouth agape. He peered all around as if still unsure what had actually happened. "There was this massive noise and then the building was collapsing on me. I just dived for the door, I don't even know how I-"

"Hey, it's ok," Harper soothed. She looped an arm around him shoulders and began to steer him towards the gathering of survivors. "You got out in time. Let's get you to the medics, alright. Get you checked over. I can think of one person who might jump at the chance," Harper tried to alleviate the mood with some gentle chiding. It didn't work.

As Harper reached the pitch and rejoined Octavia and Raven among the larger group, she finally found herself taking stock of what a sorry state everyone looked. And despite a steady influx of survivors arriving at the pitch, there were still enough people missing from the gathering to be alarming. Harper tried not to think too much about it, and focused instead on finding someone with medical knowledge. She spied Dr Griffin kneeling on the grass and immediately marched forward, bringing Monty along with her. Raven followed behind, as keen as Harper was to make sure their friend got the help he needed.

"Doc, Monty needs checking over for possible concussion-" Harper announced, though she grew quiet as she realised that Abby was kneeling over a person and checking their pulse. Harper watched, her heartbeat quickening as if trying to beat both for herself and the person on the ground. It was only when Abby pulled her hand back from the person's neck that Harper realised that checking for life had been somewhat futile. It wasn't a person anymore, but a body. A body of one of the Trikru healers, with a sharp spike of metal embedded in their skull. Harper felt her stomach roll and she turned away, sickened both by the grisly sight and the small voice in her head that said; _at least it isn't Raion_.

"I'm afraid if he isn't bleeding, Monty is going to have to wait his turn," Abby answered Harper's request at last as she stood up.

"I'm really ok," Monty insisted now. "I want to help. We need to start the rescue efforts," he urged.

Harper gave a noise of agreement and looked to Abby expectantly.

"Where's the Chancellor?" Abby asked.

Harper was about to shrug when Chancellor Sinclair's voice rang out, "Right here," he said, approaching from behind the Doctor. He was holding his jacket up to his head, the fabric already stained with blood. "It's not serious," he explained when met with three concerned glares. "A glancing shot of debris."

"Still, you are likely concussed, Chancellor. Sit down and keep pressure on that wound and I'll-" Abby started to take charge, only to be interrupted.

"Doc, I've already got a team ready to start the rescue efforts. If you and the healers set up a triage here on the pitch, I'll get some people to try to make their way through what's left of the main building and into the medbay, salvage what supplies we can for you," Octavia barked the words out as she marched forwards.

Harper actually felt herself holding back a smirk as she saw Abby and Octavia stare one another down for a second, before Abby nodded her assent.

"Good work, Octavia."

"What do you want me to do?" Harper asked, realising that the pitch had already started to empty out as people got to their assigned tasks. Octavia had worked quickly.

"You and Raven are going to dig out the rover," Octavia said. "If it's still in working condition, we'll need it to fetch help."

"What? No, I want to help digging out survivors," came Raven's voice, and she hunched herself forward and got up in Octavia's face as she spoke. The passion in her protest startled Harper after Raven had been silent for so long.

"Everyone else will be doing that," Octavia snapped back, "we need to think ahead, to what we're going to do once everyone has been found. We've got nowhere sheltered to sleep and barely any supplies left, Raven. We will need to get help. Fast."

"Listen to teacher, Octavia is right," Harper urged. "Now come on, Raven, time to put our guns to use, yeah?"

Raven turned over her shoulder and met Harper's eyes. When no more protests came, Harper led the way, moving off the pitch and onto the dirt track. It was no less of a chore to walk over, thanks to the waterlogged surface and the smattering of debris both. As she picked her way over and around it, Harper noticed that the debris was actually starting to sink down into the mud. She gulped, realising that the same thing was likely happening to the whole wreck, and anyone trapped within.

"Everything's sinking." Raven had noticed the same thing.

"We have to hurry," Harper muttered, though it felt redundant to point out the obvious. The two of them picked up their pace and Harper had to actively pull her boots up from the gloopy track with each step.

"Can I just say," Raven murmured at Harper's side, "I'm glad I designed myself a leg that doesn't come off."

Harper snorted even as she felt a little perturbed that it had been Raven who'd made her laugh, and not the other way around, given the circumstances. Though adrenaline had clearly kicked in, Harper knew that Raven's mind was probably wracked with misplaced guilt. She wished she had the luxury of trying to help ease the burden, but there were other, more literal, weights that needed to be lifted first.

A group of rescuers were already working at what used to be the main entrance into the hangar and the main building of Arkadia, trying to prize the warped shape of the doors apart. The sight of them already hard at work spurred Harper on, and she jogged as best she could until she reached them, eager to lend her own arms to the task. That eagerness disappeared the instant she reached the group and saw exactly why they were in such a rush. Between a small gap in the doors, out stuck a bloody, motionless arm, whomever it belonged to crushed between the metal. Harper frowned. Her mind was racing but she was still capable of reasoning that a person should not have been this close to the main building, let alone trying to get inside. She shook the thoughts away and concentrated on offering what help she could, taking a strong grip on the ruined door that had fewer people tugging it. With a new set of arms, the group of survivors began to heave. Harper felt the door budge, once, twice, and then they managed to drag the metal apart.

Harper wasn't certain if it was she who cried out, or someone else, as the trapped body flopped unceremoniously to the floor. Harper didn't dare to look who it was. She didn't have to.

"It's Lois!" one of the men observed, his voice cracking, "Float. It's Lois. Where's Jonathan? The twins?"

Harper opened her mouth to answer, but a sob made it out first. "I think I saw him holding both of the babies on the pitch," Harper recalled.

A silence fell as the small group waited for someone other than themselves to volunteer to take the body to the pitch. To show Jonathan the dead mother of his children. The man who had identified her at last said, "I'll take her. Carry on with the doors. We need to make a path to the medbay," he said, "if it isn't too late. If anyone buried in this wreck will even need medical attention anymore."

Harper put a hand on the man's shoulder, "They will," she comforted, "Lois shouldn't have been in the building. Nobody else was as far as we know. There's a chance that people trapped under debris will make it. Don't lose hope," she urged, willing herself to heed the words as much as anyone else.

"We have to get these open enough to get the rover out," Raven said, reaching the doors. Harper saw fresh tears trail down Raven's cheeks as she watched Lois's body being carried past her.

"You heard your Engineering Chief." Harper coaxed the group back into action. "Keep going."

 _Keep going._ The words rang in Harper's brain as she started tugging at the doors again, Raven joining in beside her. Despite the unexpected disaster that had befallen them, Harper was struck by just how quickly everyone had organised themselves and started the rescue operation. Harper reckoned that she and Raven had been back in the guardtower, unawares of what was about to happen, barely fifteen minutes ago. Really, it was no surprise that Arkadia responded so quickly. After all that had happened to them, they were all experts at responding to crisis by now. The notion wasn't comforting, though. It was tragic.

* * *

Miller grunted as he came to, aware that he'd been knocked unconscious by something but with no idea yet as to what could have happened. He opened his eyes slowly, struggling to part them, as if two great weights had been tied to his eyelids. Once his eyes were opened fully, Miller thought that the effort had been a waste, after all: wherever he was, it was pitch black.

The quiet around Miller was consuming, and as he breathed in deep lung fulls of air, he realised that he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat, like one normally would when surrounded by total silence. He might have panicked and thought he was already dead, if not for the sudden onset of deep throbbing pain in his head, blooming from the left side of his skull and spreading fire through his body. The fire awakened every other nerve ending and Miller let out a groan as he became aware that it was likely so dark because he was trapped underneath something. Slowly, Miller raised up his hands over his head, pushing them against whatever it was that pinned him to the floor. The offending object lifted off of his body and fell to the right side of Miller with a clatter.

With nothing crushing him anymore, Miller took a moment. His tongue scratched at the roof of his mouth, both totally dry. He stared up at the darkness, but, despite having nothing to focus his attention on, he was aware of the nauseating feeling of being unable to focus his vision. Still, he counted his breaths and tried to think. To remember where he had been before he'd ended up here.

The answer came like a flash, Miller picking inspiration out of the surrounding blackness. He'd been on the elevator platform, about to unload more metal panels from it. It was those panels that had fallen on top of him. And it was the wooden frame of the elevator that Miller was now trapped in. His head felt ready to burst as he deduced what had happened. The arch had come down on them. Despite Raven's flawless calculations, something had gone terribly wrong and the arch had collapsed. Miller felt himself spinning in place as a multitude of rapid thoughts occurred to him. He was lucky to be breathing, for one. If he hadn't been on ground level, he would have fallen with the arch. If he hadn't been standing on the platform, ensconced in the timber frame, he probably would have been crushed. Miller let out a strangled noise as his thoughts turned to Macallan on the other lift. As far as Miller knew, Macallan had still been up top when the arch fell.

Thinking about Macallan only lead to more despair. Miller wondered what state the camp was in, beyond his wooden prison. He wondered how many more people Arkadia had lost. He tried to console himself then, reminding himself that the main building had been evacuated. There should, there _would,_ be people still in one piece out there. People who really needed to know that Miller was alive and stuck where he was, if Miller was to have any chance of getting out of the wrecked elevator.

He tried to shout only for his voice to crack painfully and fizzle to nothing. He cleared his throat forcefully, making it burn, before trying again.

"Help!" he managed. The single word felt like an entire soliloquy. Miller willed his mouth to start producing saliva again, to ease his parched throat, or else his voice would never reach far enough to be heard. Maybe it was useless, anyway. Surely nobody left in Arkadia would think that he had survived in such an extraordinary manner. Rescue efforts would not reach Miller's location for ages, if they bothered to venture this close to the point of collapse at all. Miller ground his teeth, cursing himself for giving into despair. He tried shouting again, this time a coarse, unintelligible scream. As he expelled his air supply, he became acutely aware that his voice sounded very, very strange. Not just because of the dryness of his mouth. The noises seemed distant and loud all at the same time. Miller halted his cries and instinctively reached a hand to each side of his face. Under his right palm, Miller felt nothing except for the skin of his own cheek. His left hand however, came into contact with something warm and sticky. Miller didn't need to see to know that it was blood. Following his stricken thought process through, Miller clamped his right hand over his right ear. He drew in a long breath and expelled it in another scream. Though he could still hear himself very faintly through his clamped right ear, through his bloodied left one Miller could hear nothing. He ceased shouting again and felt tears forming in his eyes.

"Shit," he cursed, without hope that it would make him feel any better. He shivered, his whole body trembling on the cracked wooden platform. Miller thought he might take to banging his fists against the surface instead of shouting, so that he didn't have to acknowledge his likely serious head injury. But no, Miller didn't dare use force. Too much could bring the rest of the wooden frame and whatever metal debris it was propping up crashing down on top of him. A choked sob wracked through Miller's body and he let the tears fall freely, despite knowing that it was a waste of precious water from his body.

 _We were so close,_ he thought. The voice in his head at least was it's usual volume. They had all been so close to achieving something extraordinary. Real homes for Arkadia. No more metal corridors. No more Ark in space, or on the ground. Dismantling the arch was supposed to have been the beginning of an amazing journey. Instead, it might finally have ruined them. Miller's tears came harder as he recalled his own plans once the work was done. He was going to move to the farm. He was going to live happily and quietly with Bryan at last, after both of them had waited for so long and already overcome some insurmountable odds against them. _And you still will if you stop despairing and start screaming._ The voice sounded again in Miller's head. His brain gave an excruciating throb with each syllable he thought. The voice was right though. Miller blinked rapidly, trying to fight the urge to just shut his eyes and slip back into unconsciousness. His arms came down from his face to his sides, palms flat on the wood to steady his body against the sensation of the whole world turning him about. He sucked as much oxygen into his lungs as he could, until they were over full and fit to burst in his chest, and then Miller screamed.

* * *

The white walls flashed past, smooth, curving unremarkably from floor to ceiling. Walking behind the official delegation, Clarke found herself staring at the back of Lexa's head. The Commander walked ahead, proceeded only by two Europan guards who led the way around the circular path. Clarke's eyes tracked the gentle movement of Lexa's braids with each step the Commander took. The journey from their quarters back up to the fourth floor of Chambre Centrale had been dull enough that the familiar, thick brown locks were the most interesting thing to look at. Although, Clarke did find herself occasionally staring daggers into the back of the steward walking immediately behind Lexa. She wished he would move to the side a little and present her with something genuinely entertaining to pay attention to. It wasn't like Clarke had to worry about appearing proper while stuck at the back of the procession. The only people walking behind her who might catch her staring were the guards, and it was their job to pretend not to notice such things. Still, her silent pleas to the steward went unheeded. She gave up, kept her eyes fixed on those bobbing brunette curls and let her mind wander.

Clarke's fingers itched with the memory of putting the braids into Lexa's hair when they had awoken. Braiding Lexa's mane into its formal style was an arduous, fiddly task, but one that was certainly a labor of love. Still, the fact that Clarke had completed the task without needing help from the handmaids to hurry the process, was a testament to how long she and Lexa and the rest of the entourage had been left to their own devices.

It was difficult to keep track of time with no sky and no sun. Judging by how well rested she felt, her sleep must have been a long one. And before that, she and Lexa had sat through the whole original _Star Wars_ trilogy (it was Lexa who had insisted they continue both times). After getting up and dressed into their formal clothes ready for the next meeting, they'd been kept waiting long enough that when a knock had sounded at the door to their quarters it had startled Clarke and Lexa both.

The guards that had come to fetch them from their rooms had communicated with gestures and the odd learned word of gonasleng that they were to be followed, and so the entourage had gathered at last and obeyed, letting themselves be led back up to the floor that housed the Auditorium. Clarke had been surprised again when the guards had walked them past the room in which they'd met President Dominique yesterday, and now the procession slowed and came to a stop as the Europan guards halted them outside unassuming double doors that blended seamlessly into the walls around them.

Silent as ever, the guards took a door each and pulled them open, immediately motioning for the entourage to enter. Clarke stood still, waiting her turn and finally sneaking a peek at Lexa's hypnotizing saunter as the Commander led her people into the mystery room. The stewards followed behind her, then the handmaids. Clarke moved next and, as she paced through the doors and took in the new surroundings, tried and failed to keep her mouth from falling open at the sight that greeted her.

Though the space that Clarke walked into was clearly intended to be used for meetings, it did a very good job at pretending to be a formal dining room. In the center of the floor was a long metal table, its surface covered with enough food to feed the army left back in the woods, let alone the small entourage that had actually accompanied the Commander all the way here. Clarke's eyes took in bread rolls, baskets overfull with fruit, platters of meats and cheeses, glass jugs containing liquids of various hues. Despite the foreignness of some of the foodstuffs to Clarke's eyes, the food laden table was probably the most familiar thing that Clarke had seen in Europa so far, if she was measuring that sense of familiarity against her life in Polis. The scene could have been lifted from any one of the formal dinners Clarke had attended in the Kongeda.

As Clarke's attention finally moved away from the food to spot President Dominique, the Delegates, and Luna standing on the opposite side of the table, Clarke immediately guessed that this whole thing was likely Luna's idea. Something so grand didn't strike her as Europa's style. It screamed of overcompensation, as if Luna and the President knew that yesterday's first meeting was somewhat underwhelming, and so today they'd pulled out all of the stops and prepared a welcome befitting to the arrival of a visiting dignitary.

At face value, the banquet was a worthy attempt indeed to make up for the lack of fanfare beforehand. Although, no matter how many such meals Clarke attended in her political career, when faced with the prospect of a formal dinner, Clarke's mind always went back to the one shared by Skaikru and Trikru when their alliance was brand new. A meal that had ended in total disaster. Raven almost executed under false charges of attempting to poison the Commander. Lexa's personal bodyguard, Gustus, actually executed when it was revealed he had been responsible for framing Raven, in an attempt to sever the foundling alliance. Of course, Luna could not know about all this if Lexa hadn't elected to tell her, and Clarke knew that it was a day that Lexa generally avoided mentioning. Clarke pushed the memories away for now, and refined her gawping into a more appropriate, pleased smile, trying to convey that she was indeed impressed by the sight laid out before her.

"Commander Lexa, it is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for agreeing to join us for this meal," President Dominique spoke. Like yesterday, her command of gonasleng was good enough for her to speak the usual formalities without requiring translation.

"I wasn't aware that it was a meal I was being invited to," Lexa replied. Her voice wasn't exactly snappish, but it was more terse than Clarke had expected it to be. Clarke returned to staring at the back of Lexa's head, this time with curiosity. "Though, it is a grand feast indeed, and I thank you for the effort you have made. It's almost like being back home," Lexa said after a measured pause. Her words revealed to Clarke that Lexa had come to the same conclusion that the familiarity was a deliberate set-up.

"Yes, I got the impression that you were a little unsettled by the new surroundings yesterday. I thought a little familiarity would be welcomed and would make our second meeting feel a little less-" Dominique halted a moment, her hand waiving mid-gesture in the air, "rigid," she offered, finding the right word.

Clarke held back a frown. Dominique's decision to openly acknowledge Lexa's discomfort yesterday, to openly discuss a political peer's weakness, could easily be read as a slight. Clarke doubted it was intended as such, but cultural differences were bound to be difficult to overcome and this was a stark reminder of that.

"That's exactly why banquets are favored in the Kongeda," Lexa responded in the same, not quite curt voice as before.

"I can see their charm," President Dominique said, and then she motioned towards the table with both hands. "Please, let us sit and begin. We have the food on the table, but also three courses of Europan delicacies."

Everyone shuffled to take their correct seats, President Dominique and Lexa taking chairs directly opposite one another. Clarke took a seat at Lexa's right, which put her right across from Luna. The Commander even instructed Karlo and Sage to join her around the table, rather than stand guard. Clarke had to assume that the show of trust was most likely Lexa's way of getting away with her newfound caginess.

"Did Luna tell you why sharing meals with political peers is so important in our culture?" Lexa asked once everyone was settled around the table. Now there was no doubt that the Commander had guessed who was responsible for Europa's surprise, and everyone in the room who hadn't reached that conclusion no longer needed to wonder.

Clarke watched as Dominique turned to Luna for translation, and then the President regarded Lexa. "She didn't," President Dominique admitted. Clarke noted a new rigidness to Dominique's movements as the President waved a hand at the Europan guards at the doors, perhaps ordering them to usher in the starter.

"Dining with an ally shows that you trust and honor them enough to share such valuable resources as food and water with them," Lexa gave in explanation.

Clarke found herself watching the Commander raptly, keen to be ready to pick up on any hints or cues to join in the discussion that Lexa might communicate to her. As a result, Clarke barely acknowledged when the room filled with serving staff and a bowl of soup was placed before her by one of them.

"Or," Lexa continued, nodding her head in thanks to the serving staff for her own bowl, "it means that you are attempting to poison an ally that has outlived their usefulness," the Commander finished. Clarke identified the wryness in Lexa's voice. She doubted anyone else had.

Clarke caught the way Luna's eyes narrowed at Lexa before she offered a translation to President Dominique. Dominique seemed to blanche a moment, before giving a short laugh. "I assure you, Commander, there is no poison," Dominique said. She picked up her spoon and started eating her own soup as if to demonstrate her point.

Lexa gave a hum that suggested she was well aware of the lack of risk. She followed by picking up her own spoon and took her first taste of the soup without letting one of her guards try her bowl first. So, when Clarke saw Lexa tense in her seat, her heart missed a beat.

"Vichyssoise," Luna stated quickly, seeing the same tenseness in Lexa that Clarke had. "Cold soup. Took me some getting used to as well."

Clarke breathed a sigh of relief and quickly started her own bowl. The soup, which was green and tasted distinctly of peas, was indeed well chilled. With explanation given, she saw Lexa relax now that the Commander knew that no petty offence was meant. Clarke had to prevent herself from laughing around her spoon as she imagined war being declared over cold pea soup. Crisis averted.

Despite the strangeness of the dish to the Kongeda entourage, the starter was undeniably delicious. Everyone, including Clarke, finished it quickly and well before President Dominique. Clarke deduced then that the quick eating was probably intentional. The Kongeda would be observing the typical rules of etiquette. They expected to have to stop eating as soon as Dominique was done with her course, whether they actually had to observe this custom or not. Clarke hoped that their speed was not instead interpreted as uncouthness, and vowed to slow down herself on the main course.

"Are the aforementioned reasons the only reasons to have a banquet, Commander?" Dominique asked, conversation picking up again between courses.

"Not at all," Lexa answered, "they can also mean that your host is trying to get you well fed and watered enough to lower your inhibitions. So that you might agree to something that's in their interest, but not your own."

Dominique laughed again, longer than last time, after some more translations. The President seemed to have decided that Lexa was being contrary in jest, but Clarke wasn't sure that was it. She knew how well Lexa could push people's buttons, and when she did, the Commander always, always had a specific outcome in mind.

"You know, I was thinking more along the lines of celebrations. Holidays, birthdays-" Dominique said.

"Only Skaikru observe birthdays," Lexa corrected, "although yes, the Kongeda are renowned for celebratory feasts. The harvest feast and those enjoyed at union ceremonies are usually the most impressive."

Clarke felt an involuntary tremble of nerves go through her body at hearing Lexa mention union ceremonies. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard Lexa mention them before and sent out a silent prayer that Raven hadn't got anything to do with them being brought up now. She forced herself to relax, deciding it was much more likely to be a coincidence.

"I'm sure we come nowhere close," President Dominique admitted. She paused to allow the main course, some sort of stew over strange yellow-white shapes that looked to be made from flour, to be served. "We do have a special treat today, however," Dominique continued. "Real beef goulash," she named the dish.

Clarke's nostrils tickled at the steam rising off of her plate; the seasoning smelled amazing. Out of habit, she waited for the President to begin eating, before attacking her own plate. She immediately skewered one of the pieces of beef. The meat melted on her tongue and tasted wonderful. "Real beef?" Clarke repeated, deciding that she was done with observing quietly for now, and mindful of what Lexa had said yesterday. It was Clarke's mission to discover the history of Europa.

"From one of the outerland farms," it was the young male delegate, Gabor, who answered. He then turned to Luna, who was sitting beside him, and spoke to her in Europan.

"Bringing the herds to maturity and getting them to produce young has been a lengthy process. Until recently, the outerland settlements were reliant on food grown in the tunnels. Now, the process is starting to become a two-way stream," Luna translated for the Delegate.

Clarke sorted through the information and scowled in confusion. "Where did the herds come from?" she asked. Domesticated animals in the Kongeda had only survived so long after the war because they'd never stopped being farmed by the twelve clans. It was unlikely that an underground settlement could just appear back on the surface and happen across some ready tamed herds of livestock.

Clarke watched as Luna turned to President Dominique and said something to the President. Dominique gave a terse nod and Luna refocused her attention on Clarke, her brown eyes serious. "President Dominique has given me permission to tell you how Europa came to be as it is today," Luna stated.

That she had said the words directly to Clarke, rather than Lexa, was telling. Luna also knew that Clarke would fare better at understanding what was about to be revealed. Clarke almost let slip a triumphant noise as Lexa's puzzling behavior suddenly made sense to her. Lexa had been doing it all on purpose, to paint Clarke's questions as polite curiosity in comparison to her own contrariness. As a result, the Europans now seemed more willing to direct their attention to Clarke.

"The first generation of the livestock herds were grown here in the tunnels, from fertilized embryos frozen and stored down here before the nuclear war," Luna started, immediately confirming what had been obvious. The tunnels were an effort to save humanity that had been planned and brought to realisation before the bombs had fallen. "In the last years before the old world died, what was then the European Union knew it was likely to be caught in the middle of the growing tensions between the USA and China. Nuclear war seemed increasingly likely, and thanks to the various alliances around the world, was guaranteed to bring mutually assured destruction when it came."

Clarke grit her teeth. Europa still thought that the nuclear war had been caused by a conflict between two nations. They didn't know about the rogue artificial intelligence, about ALIE. Clarke stayed quiet a second, to give Lexa the chance to correct the story if she wished. She was unsurprised when the Commander remained silent. "So the Union worked together and built the tunnel network?" Clarke ventured.

"Most of it. The work was actually completed after the first generation had taken shelter," Luna answered. "That was their role, the chosen scientists, engineers and so on. So that the second generation could create a livable society down in the tunnels. And the third could start the transition of moving to the ground again."

"How?" Clarke asked immediately, feeling like she should have thought of the question before. "How have you been able to move back to the outside so quickly? Surely your people can't have the resistance to the radiation needed to survive up there. Not after three generations down here," Clarke said. She felt her heart quicken as her line of questioning brought thoughts of the mountain back to the forefront of her mind.

Luna grimaced, as if she was about to reveal something particularly difficult to admit. "The second generation of Europans were not the naturally conceived descendants of the first. They, like the livestock herds, were brought into being artificially down here. The genetics of each embryo in the population bomb were modified to increase their radiation tolerance. A trait strengthened when passed on in the usual way to generation three. Gabor and Maria's generation."

Clarke blinked, the information she'd just received simultaneously astounding and somehow terrible. A whole society born through such artificial, sterile means. No wonder Europa seemed to scream its lack of a rich culture. "Where did the first generation get so many embryos from?" Clarke enquired. The sheer amount of planning that had gone into the place was enough to make her feel nauseous. Then again, she had known that the Ark's air filtration system was failing long before everyone else. Clarke knew firsthand how it felt to foresee the doom of one's people. She and her father would have gone to any lengths to save the Ark, had he not been floated, and she not locked up in solitary.

"The embryos were syphoned off in secret from the numerous fertility banks that existed before the war," Luna explained, before quickly adding, "It was morally reprehensible. Europa knows that. But the Europans owe their existence to those decisions. Life still flourishes on the continent, beyond the end of the world, because of those decisions."

"Believe me," Clarke said, "I have no right to judge. I know what it's like to have to make such a call."

Clarke thought she might have caught a brief flash of guilt in Luna's eyes, as though the Captain were at last beginning to see Clarke's true worth, her true capabilities. _It's about time,_ Clarke thought. But Luna still didn't know the half of what Clarke might be capable of. Especially when paired with the woman sitting, quiet and observant, to her left.

"Well, that's likely the simplest version of Europa's tale I can give you," Luna rounded off. She glanced toward the Commander, "I apologise if it's a bit much to digest. It took me a long time to fully understand the concepts myself."

"Almost as difficult to comprehend as vichyssoise," Lexa replied. She was smirking when she said it, with no need left for her pretend imperiousness. Or, not; "I must note that I've heard no mention of an army, or other protective force. Europa was and remains a vital achievement. Surely those who brought it into existence did not intend to leave it undefended."

"Actually, they did." It was Dominique who answered now. Clarke found it odd that of all they had discussed, it was the topic of an army that Dominique understood enough to answer to herself. "Europa came into existence as a result of the mistakes of humanity. Weapons and armies only breed wars. Best to leave those things in the past, no?"

"In an ideal world, President," Lexa mused. "One we have not achieved quite yet in the Kongeda," she admitted humbly. A trace of the Lexa that Clarke was most used to seeing these days.

"I hope then, that Europa can help you to achieve it. And that in return you may aid us," President Dominique offered. "That is why you were invited here after all. To begin a friendship between our societies that I hope will last forever. Europa may have many things that the Kongeda does not. But your people have survived this world in the most old fashioned way. And from all Luna has taught me, and from getting to meet you, Commander, not only do I envision a society so rich in culture, but in knowledge too. Knowledge that will help my people to reclaim the land of this continent."

So there it was. Europa's leading motivation for inviting the Kongeda to make contact with them. It was both the most simple and most complex reason. This artificially realised society was trying to discover who it was. Though she had come to love the Kongeda dearly, Clarke didn't for a minute think they were the best society to take inspiration from. Not yet at least, as Lexa had suggested. And Clarke came from a society that had had to totally reimagine itself. Sky to ground. She was well aware of all the pitfalls that might lie ahead for Europa, all the ways in which an innocent journey to discover itself could lead down much darker paths. And if the Kongeda involved itself in that process, it risked following its new ally into the darkness. Especially when the Kongeda was going through its own period of reinvention.

Boiled down to the most simplistic terms, President Dominique was offering a mere yes or no question. Yet it would be one of the most difficult answers for Commander Lexa to give in her political career. Clarke felt more grateful than ever that she was here too, to support Lexa however she chose.

* * *

Each pass of the suture through Sinclair's skin was accompanied by a sharp hiss, but little other indication of pain. Abby was impressed. The gash wasn't serious, just as Sinclair had assured, but to have such a sensitive area stitched without the use of anaesthetic had to hurt. The anaesthetic and other medical equipment that survivors had managed to salvage from the wreckage of the main building had been carefully rationed off, the medics prioritising most resources to those with the worst injuries. Abby despised how similar it felt to how things had worked back on the Ark. Those days were supposed to be far, far behind them by now.

Abby had to be thankful that the majority of the settlement _had_ escaped the catastrophe mostly unscathed. She dreaded to think what might have happened had they elected not to evacuate the main building. There would certainly have been more than the seven fatalities they'd counted so far. Still, Abby stopped herself short of being too grateful. There were many patients now lying on the pitch suffering from serious concussions. With only the most basic supplies rescued from the medbay, Abby had no way of knowing if such injuries were causing internal bleeding, no way of making sure that someone who appeared stable now didn't suddenly slip away thanks to a bleed on the brain. The doctor could only pray, and attempt to fight away a profound feeling of helplessness.

"You're all done," Abby announced softly to Sinclair as she tied and cut off the last stitches. She didn't doubt that the Chancellor's head must be aching terribly.

"Thanks, Abby," Sinclair answered.

"I should cover it, but I don't think there's any more spare-"

"Don't worry about it," Sinclair interrupted Abby's fretting, "You've done superbly, Dr Griffin. We'd be lost without you."

"And the Trikru healers," Abby added, for she couldn't imagine how she would have coped without their presence. The healers had not let the loss of one of their own halt their work, and after patching each other's bumps and scrapes up quickly, they had helped Abby to arrange a functioning triage on the pitch.

Abby glanced over her shoulder and took in the sight. All of the healers were attending to several patients at a time, the injured people totalling about thirty. Despite the hurried activity of the healers as they flitted from one person to another, a quietness had fallen over the pitch. A soothing kind of silence that suggested that perhaps, the worst had passed. Abby caught herself again, inwardly chiding her own optimism. Even if they had only lost seven people, and the thirty injured residents made full recoveries, this was yet another tragic event that would leave permanent scars on the minds of all who had suffered through it. Abby found herself thinking this as her eyes found and locked onto Jonathan. He was sitting with his back propped against the wall of the settlement, his face pale, gaunt and emotionless, overcome with shock. He did not notice that Abby was staring at him, but still Abby felt uncomfortable and she let her attention dart instead to Monty. Despite his insistence on helping, Monty had found himself too woozy to be of much use. Abby had asked him to instead help Jonathan with the babies. Now, he sat to Jonathan's right, shock plastered onto his face too. The twins slept soundly against his chest, blissfully unaware of the pain and loss being felt all around them.

"Raion," Abby called over to the youngest Trikru healer.

Raion looked up from where he was administering an infinitesimal amount of antibacterial balm to a deep gash on his current patient's arm. "Yes, Dr Griffin?"

"When you've finished there, will you go check up on Monty, please?" Abby requested. She hid a knowing smirk at the way Raion's eyes lit up at the request. She knew that the two of them had been spending a lot of time together, and didn't doubt for a minute that there was more than just a professional relationship brewing between them. It was just one small beacon of hope to zone in on. The settlement was young. It had a future to carve yet.

"I can do that," Raion confirmed.

Abby smiled across to him and gave a grateful nod. She turned back to Chancellor Sinclair, was about to speak when her words were lost under a deafening, thrumming roar. It was the sound of an engine sparking to life, a beautiful sound that was quickly followed up by the rover appearing out of the wreckage of the main building. It's wheels span in the mud, but under Raven's skillful direction, the vehicle inched its way clear of the destruction, a hopeful sight that Abby felt they had all more than earned. Her feelings must have been shared, as a great cheer rang up through the settlement, quickly echoed by Raven's victorious honking of the rover's horn. Abby observed as Harper clambered out of the passenger side, a wide cheek-to-cheek grin on her face. The guard rushed over, making a beeline for Abby and Sinclair, pausing only to give and receive a few high fives and fist bumps on the way.

"Your chariot awaits, Chancellor," Harper announced once she reached the pitch.

"Good work, McIntyre. I hope Raven isn't too smug about it," Sinclair answered.

Harper shrugged, "I think she could do with a little smugness, right now, Chancellor," she answered, concern for Raven evident in her voice.

Abby motioned her head in agreement. She knew Raven well, well enough to assume that their Chief Engineer would be placing a lot of blame on herself now for what had happened. She shared a meaningful look with Sinclair.

"I will talk to her," Sinclair promised. "I normally get through to her, after a little insistence."

"Thanks, Chancellor," Harper said, "it's good to know she has so many people looking out for her."

"We've all got each other's backs," Abby agreed.

The three of them fell quiet, each taking stock of how grateful they were for the others around them.

"Well, I guess I should pick my-" Sinclair started to say. Another loud noise reverberated through the air, cutting him off.

This time it was the sound of wailing, the unmistakable pained cry of someone finding something awful. _Eight,_ Abby corrected the number of losses even before Octavia appeared before her, breathless from running.

"We've found Macallan," Octavia puffed out. She gulped hard. "What's left of him, anyway. And the two who were working the pulleys" she added with a wince.

Abby closed her eyes and sighed. _Ten, then._ With the front of the wreck cleared of survivors, attention had been turned to back, to the sights of the two elevators. Abby had known that the chances of finding the people working on and around the structures alive was next to impossible. Still, she had hoped. Abby forced her eyes open and steeled herself, waiting to receive the same news about those manning the opposite lift.

"Dr Griffin! Dr Griffin! We need you over here!" a voice came crying out. Abby startled and located the voice, saw a woman running towards her from behind the wreckage, arms waving erratically in the air. "It's Miller! He's still alive!"

Abby's legs moved of their own accord, propelling her forward at the sound of those unbelievable words. Despite her rushing, however, she was quickly overtaken by Harper and Octavia. She let the two girls go ahead, and by the time she had picked her way over debris to the other side of the destruction, her newest patient was already being carefully carried out from where he had been trapped. Abby wondered how on earth Miller had survived, but quickly cast those thoughts aside to focus on what mattered. He _was_ alive, and he needed her help. She marched over to the group of rescuers.

"Put him down here," Abby ordered. She waited for Miller to be carefully deposited onto a clear patch of grass. Harper and Octavia quickly knelt beside their friend. Abby claimed her own space on Miller's left side, having already noted the blood on that side of his face. Despite the alarming sight, she was relieved to see that Miller was still conscious, his eyes barely open, but staring back at her nonetheless.

"Doc," Miller croaked out.

"Hush, let me take a look at this wound," Abby insisted. She saw Miller grimace, as if struggling to understand her.

"Doc, you're going to have to move to the other side of me," Miller answered, "I- I can't hear you."

Abby's mouth formed a hard line as Miller confirmed what she had suspected the injury might be. She took one more glance, to confirm that the blood covering Miller's left cheek had in fact poured out of his ear, and then she did as asked and shuffled over to Miller's right side.

"Miller, I can't say for certain yet, but I need you to be prepared," Abby said gently. She placed a comforting hand over his sweat-beaded forehead. "Did something hit the side of your face?" she asked.

Miller made a noise to confirm that it had. "The metal panels I'd brought down fell on top of me. Knocked me out," he whispered.

Abby could imagine perfectly what had happened. The metal sheets falling, clapping Miller hard around the ear, causing a sudden and great change of pressure. "I think you're left eardrum is burst, Miller." She saw the question in Miller's eyes without him having to ask it. "The hearing loss is likely to be permanent."

Miller grunted, taking the information in. "Guess I know which side to tell my lieutenant here to stand on when she's _harping_ on at her boss," Miller managed.

Abby observed as Harper's face contorted, a mixture of amusement and hurt for her friend. "Charming. You realise that I've got to hold the fort for you now you've gotten yourself all banged up?" Harper let out, a dark edge to her voice, as if she was realising just how easily her and Miller's situations could have been reversed. Still, Harper had a point. There was little use everybody crowding around Miller anymore. The time for relief had passed and there was plenty of work yet to be done.

"That's right, acting Guard Captain. I've got this in hand," Abby said. "You should go back to Chancellor Sinclair. You too, Octavia, I imagine that you'll be going with him in the rover to fetch help." As she spoke, Abby felt a new flood of desperation overtake her, the relief of finding Miller alive washed clean away. She silently directed a few survivors to pick Miller back up, to take him to the pitch for proper treatment. Abby got back onto her feet and shivered as she looked over their ruined home. Their shelter gone in the midst of winter. The help that Chancellor Sinclair and his team were going to ask for had better come quickly, or else who knew how their tiny clan would make it through to spring, let alone into that bright future they'd all been dreaming of.

* * *

Luna battled with the urge to slouch in her chair as she sat across the large metal desk from President Dominique. Usually, her lax approach to etiquette would go unremarked upon, or even teased, but Luna got the distinct feeling that this was no social call. She had been asked into the President's office for a specific reason. The way that Dominique stared over at her was intense, even and quiet. It often reminded Luna of Indra. It was not a judgemental look upon Dominique's kind face, simply a disarming one. A gaze that implored whomever it was aimed at to be honest.

"The meal was a success, President," Luna noted, speaking Europan, when President Dominique kept silent. Luna knew that she was expected to speak first, that she was expected to already know what Dominique wanted to hear from her.

"It was," Dominique agreed, "largely thanks to your guidance. It was a good idea."

Luna nodded, accepting the praise. "I can't really speak for the Kongeda as a whole, but I've always known Trikru to be slow to take on new concepts, to trust new ideas. I thought the familiarity would be a help."

"I'm not sure you give Commander Lexa enough credit. I think she understood more about our history than either of us expected," Dominique pointed out.

"Concepts already learned from _Skaikru_ , I imagine. From Clarke," Luna surmised. "I admit, I had my doubts about Clarke's character, but I'm glad she is here now. She's proven useful as a mediator between the two cultures. As for Lexa, I suppose I never imagined how a person I once knew so well would change in the time I've been away. We always knew I was making the journey back across the seas on knowledge that was likely well outdated. The extent to which the political landscape has changed over there was surprising to me, even so. I guess I was expecting Lexa to fold more under the pressures of leadership, to have ended up more like the previous Commanders."

"She certainly knows how to wear her power. I have no doubt that she is a remarkably dangerous woman when she wishes to be. Is that not what we expected?"

"It is. Don't get me wrong, she's exactly like her predecessors when she needs to be. But underneath that, there is still a lot of the girl I once knew. And a lot of the young woman who is now a total stranger to me. It's difficult to know which facet you might end up dealing with at any given moment. That makes it hard to judge how to approach things with her," Luna tried not to wince as she said the last part, feeling it might give her away.

"Do you feel you may have misjudged something, Luna?" Dominique inquired, picking up on whatever residual facial cues Luna had not managed to cover in time. The gentle way in which Dominique accused her, the way it was posed as a searching question, cut Luna right to the bone.

"Maybe," she admitted.

Dominique moved her arms from the rests of her chair, placing her elbows on the table. She clasped her hands before her chin. "Yesterday, you informed me after the first meeting, that Commander Lexa had insisted on bringing a small army along with her. I accepted that, based on all you had told me of your old home, even expected something like that to occur in order for her to agree to come here. Providing those soldiers stay within their camp, unaware of the location of the tunnel entrance and unlikely to create a fuss, they are of little concern to me." Dominique gave a pause, giving her words time to sink in before she made her real point. "It is the Commander herself that I worry about. I trusted your judgement of her, I still do. But I look at her, and I fear that _her_ fear of this place, of how we live, will cause trouble. I know that the Kongeda have had difficult experiences with an underground society before. I do not blame her for being a little wary. But it's more than that. It is the discomfort of being taken by surprise. It is the reaction someone might have to being faced with one of their fears without prior warning. Or time to prepare themselves."

"I didn't tell her that we live underground." Luna relinquished her secret. "She didn't know until she was at the entrance to the tunnels."

The silence that descended over the office was consuming. Luna felt every hair on the back of her neck stand on end as Dominique scrutinized her. Still, there was no harshness to be found in Dominique's eyes. Only a certain disappointment that pierced the skin and turned to shame the moment it hit.

"You sprung this reality on her. Practically assaulted her with it, and then brought her here, among your people," Dominique said.

"She would never have made the journey," Luna stated, choking on her attempt to put strength into her voice. "If she had known what Europa is, she wouldn't have set foot on the ship. Or, if she had, it would have been with a view to bring war upon another mountain, before we could act against her society." When Dominique gave no response to Luna's defense, Luna went on; "You call what the mountain was doing ' _difficult experiences'_ but it was so much more than that. It was genocide. It was the systematic destruction of one group of people for the benefit of the other. And since I left, that threat may have been destroyed, but the scars remain. And the truth of why they did what they did to us all those years was revealed. They were using the blood of the twelve clans, to try to make themselves resistant enough to move to the ground. If I had told Lexa that we live in the same way here, that's all she would have seen. Another threat. Another society looking to bleed her people dry. So I kept it hidden. I got her here first, so that she has no choice but to see and live our truth, without the chance to make any assumptions that could put us in danger. I would never risk the chance of bringing a war here. Europa is my home."

"I know that, Luna. I've known you for five years now, befriended you and watched you find your place here. But does the Commander know?" Dominique spoke at last, her rather simple question taking Luna aback. "Does Commander Lexa understand your motivations for protecting us so fiercely? Not your duty to me as your President. Your personal investments."

Luna shook her head, red curls bouncing freely. "Not yet, President."

"That at least, is a decision I can understand," Dominique responded. Luna read between the lines easily enough. She knew that President Dominique still thought she had been wrong to hide the nature of Europa for the whole journey. And, as a result, Dominique expected her to do something to rectify her mistake. "You have to make Lexa truly understand why you hid so much from her. Her ability to trust you is paramount to our success, and her finding calm here vital to our safety." Dominique broke into a smile. "It isn't very often I get to order people to spend time with their friends as a matter of domestic security. Go, Luna, and enjoy this novelty."

Luna rose of her chair and gave a half-bow, understanding what needed to be done. "Allow me to apologise, President Dominique," she said, readying to take her leave.

Dominique simply waved her off, the amused smirk she normally wore in Luna's presence appearing right at the last moment, before Luna turned away from her and exited the office. It was probably one of the simplest tasks she'd ever been entrusted with, and yet Luna felt her stomach tighten with nerves at the prospect. It was time to invite Commander Lexa to visit her home. To show the thing that Luna never thought she would have to a woman she never imagined she'd get to show it to. There was nothing simple about that.

* * *

The long grass rustled overhead in the light breeze. The sound was constant, soothing, and even after fourteen years spent in the barren wastes, utterly familiar. Kaigo lay prone on the plain, the shorter grasses scratching against his palms as he crawled up a slight incline in the otherwise flat land. General Mearas also inched her way up the natural overlook at Kaigo's left side.

"There," Kaigo whispered upon reaching the top. He raised himself up onto his knees, granting himself a better view of the vista beyond while being careful to keep his head below the level of the grass. "There is the Western Caste's camp, around the lake."

The Exodus army had moved swiftly, reaching the territory of Ingranrona in a matter of hours, just like Kaigo had said they could. Still, it felt strange to Kaigo to be in the lands of his previous home again after so very long, not least because the territory had, for all that time, remained so very close. The landscapes of Ingranrona and the wastes could not be more different, however. Kaigo peered through the grass at the myriad tents, stretching around the shores of a lake full to the brim with water. He observed the figures milling around the camp, going about their everyday lives. As the fresh, living scents of the plains filled his nose, the comfort of the familiar turned instead to the envy of looking upon what he had gone without. Kaigo wondered if the army that crouched behind him, awaiting their orders, felt the same way after their passage across the continent.

The rush of the wind was the only sound for a while, as Mearas rose to her knees and assessed the sight for herself. Kaigo found himself watching her closely, looking into that pallid face for any sign of emotion. Looking for the confident set of her jaw. The flash of bloodlust in her eyes. Or perhaps for a nervous tick. The same envy that he felt. Instead, Mearas's face remained resolutely passive.

"Are you sure that is the whole camp?" Mearas asked.

Kaigo nodded. "Yes. Around two-hundred souls in total. The large tent across the lake belongs to the Horsemaster of the camp. And beyond that, do you see that hill?" Kaigo pointed through the grass very briefly. Even a stray finger might be spotted by the scouts that patrolled the camp. "That's where the beacon is located. The moment we are spotted, someone will make a run for that beacon to alert the rest of the territory, and then the whole Kongeda, that we are coming."

Mearas gave a low growl, "They will not make it to that beacon," she vowed. Then, she pointed towards the tents. "Those fire pits, are they communal?"

"Yes. The Caste eat their meals together."

"Then we wait for the evening meal to make our attack. When their guard is down and the cooking fires dancing in their eyes, obscuring their surroundings," Mearas said. "We go in prone, take out the scouts. Then we charge, right to the edges of the lake, where the Exodus will split and take a side each. Where are the horses kept?" she asked.

Kaigo scanned the nomadic settlement. The layout of each Caste differed little from one another. He soon located the only permanent structures on the sight, four of them in a square. "Those are the stables," he motioned his head, "the wooden structures."

"We will need to prevent anyone from getting to their horse and making a break for it. Or attempting to mount of defensive charge. I will send a small detachment to flank through the grasses. They will clear the stables of any guards, and wait ready to ambush anyone who runs there," Mearas plotted. Now, Kaigo could detect an air of confidence in her voice. It wasn't self-assured however, merely certain of just how easy this could be, if things went as planned. Kaigo let out an involuntary hiss of delight at the thought. If fate favored the Exodus, in a few hours at most, the Western Caste of Ingranrona would exist no more. He shuddered when he realized that Mearas had turned her head to stare daggers at him. "Do I need to ask you if you are able to proceed again, Heda Kaigo?" She had read his noise as doubt, not expectation.

Kaigo grimaced, but shook his head aggressively. "No," he stated.

"Did you know this Caste well?" Mearas continued to pry.

"Well enough. The Castes rarely gather together, instead rotating across the land of their own territories for most of the year, from one sight to the next. Sometimes, that means setting up camp close to the next Caste's border. Celebratory meetings normally follow when that occurs. To signify that despite our relative solitude from one another, we are still one clan. We _were_ ," Kaigo corrected hurriedly. "I never knew this Horsemaster, however," he added, hoping that this might further assuage Mearas of her doubt. "Carver, I believe his name is. When I was Horsemaster in the south, it was his father who rode at the head of the Western Caste." Kaigo quietened then, afraid that saying too much would sound like he was overcompensating. History lessons hardly mattered to those who were about to destroy that history.

"Very well," Mearas said, "let us return to the Exodus and wait for darkness to fall. I want a full rundown of Ingranrona defense tactics from you while we wait. I don't want a drop of that settlement's blood left unspilled. When we are through, the lake will run red."

The passionless way in which Mearas spoke of such things would never be anything less that completely petrifying. Kaigo didn't understand how Mearas could be so unfazed, when the prospect of drawing first blood from the Kongeda filled _him_ with satisfaction. "My people will be ready to serve," Kaigo assured, feeling the need to offer what he could. "We've waited for this opportunity for so long - " Kaigo went on, the words pouring out of him unbidden, " - It would be an honor for us to lead the main charge with you, General."

General Mearas bared her teeth. "Who am I to deny such a brave and noble request?"

* * *

The elevator crawled past the level that Lincoln was after. He jumped off onto the floor of the tower that held the Commander's famous library. Lincoln had at last found a few moments to spare, and he thought he might brush up on his reading skills. The ability to read was a gift not many people possessed in the Kongeda, especially not warriors. Lincoln had been taught by Luna, and in the past year, he had insisted on Octavia helping him to improve the skill further. He thought it would be nice to have the chance to read something in full, so that he might pass the tale onto Octavia when he returned home and show her that her efforts had not been in vain.

Spare time seemed to come in rare spates in Polis tower, and despite staying in the tower for over a week, Lincoln had enjoyed very little time to himself. He had found himself helping to teach the novitiates every day, often from dawn until dusk, though the time passed in the blink of an eye. It was a hectic lifestyle the two children led, with both practical and theoretical classes that covered a whole range of topics. As a field medic, Lincoln's extensive knowledge of healing had been especially useful in Clarke's absence, but so too had his skill as a warrior. Indra had certainly made the most of Lincoln's help, preferring to watch and offer advice from the sidelines rather than scrap with the overly energetic novitiates herself. It was strange for Lincoln to see her so subdued. She had clearly taken to the quiet life as Lexa's ceremonial bodyguard just as well as Lincoln had taken to the current peacefulness of Arkadia. Lincoln would never say it to her face, for he knew that the General would still knock him to the ground, but he thought Indra might be going just a little soft. Though that wasn't particularly surprising to him. He knew all about the kindhearted, passionate soul at her center. Watching her reveal that side of herself to Marion and Kalvan had been truly moving to observe.

Lincoln was impressed with the two novitiates Lexa had found so far, using the new method of identifying her potential successor. Luna had told him much about the life of a nightblood in Polis. Though he knew he'd never truly understand without having lived it himself, Lincoln imagined what a difficult, terrifying way it must have been to grow up. Spending each day of your childhood knowing that your death approached far too soon. A reality that most people didn't become aware of until at least a little later. Those children had lived under the shadow of the conclave from the moment they were taken from their families and brought to the capital for training. The whole notion was barbaric to Lincoln, just one of many issues he had always had with his culture. Lincoln couldn't stomach thinking about what it might have been like to meet Marion and Kalvan were the old system still in place, knowing what fate likely awaited those kids. He wondered how Indra and Anya ever stood mentoring Luna and Lexa respectively. It was a relief that Lexa's changes to the process now prevented a tragic waste of such bright lives. No fight to the death awaited Marion and Kalvan, nor any other novitiates that may join them. In fact, Lincoln got the distinct impression that a great many potential successors to the throne would age out before ever needing to worry about the mantle passing to them. Commander Lexa seemed intent on sticking around for an awful lot longer than any previous Commanders had.

Reaching the library, Lincoln found the doors to be under guard, suggesting that someone of importance was already inside. The guards opened the grand wooden doors even so, letting Lincoln pass through them. He took in the spectacle, the overfull bookshelves stretching out to his left and right, and then his eyes settled on the lone figure in the room.

Aden stood facing the large windows, though darkness was falling and not much could be seen through them. The acting Commander's posture was perfect, his hands clasped behind his back. Despite being both a taller and broader than Lexa by now, Aden was almost the mirror of her. Uncertain whether the guards should have actually let him enter, but deciding that they were unlikely to make such a mistake, Lincoln edged further into the room, heading towards the large table. As he grew close, he found himself grinning. Aden was muttering to himself, a rapid barrage of fanciful Trigedasleng escaping his lips and drifting out through the windows. Lincoln came to stop on the opposite side on the table to Aden and cleared his throat. Aden's chattering stopped in an instant and the boy whipped about, hand going to, but not drawing, one of the throwing knives he wore on a bandolier over his chest. Lincoln offered an apologetic shrug as his eyes met Aden's.

"I apologise for startling you, acting Commander Aden," Lincoln said, bowing his head in respect.

Aden dropped his hand from the handle of the knife, his young face looking noticeably crestfallen at being taken off guard. "I was practicing my lines for the Remembrance Ceremony tomorrow," he admitted.

Lincoln nodded in understanding. The ceremony was one of the reasons why he had elected to stay so long. He'd never been to one before, and he thought that the first one after a year of unmatched peace would be a particularly important event to be a part of. All the years before now, the ceremony had been focused on honoring the glory of those warriors felled in battle. Lincoln thought that now, it might take on a more somber and reflective tone, as the Kongeda took stock of what progress it had made away from the violence of the past. He would even wager that when Lexa had introduced the ceremony upon the unification of the Kongeda, the Commander had always intended for it to become a more sedate day of remembrance, rather than a celebration. As a result, tomorrow was going to be a serious affair, and Lincoln did not blame Aden for wanting to be prepared to lead the ceremony in Lexa's stead.

"Are you nervous?" Lincoln enquired, knowing that it wasn't really something he should be asking the acting Commander, but doubting that he would mind.

"A little," Aden answered immediately, confirming Lincoln's logic. If anything, after the initial shock, he now looked relieved to have someone to confide in. "I do wish Commander Lexa would hurry home. Public speaking was never where my strength lay in my training."

"Yet you know as I do, you will face your weakness and overcome it. That is why Commander Lexa entrusted her throne to you, Aden. You will do fine," Lincoln assured.

" _Chof,_ Lincoln," Aden responded. The boy - for Lincoln could still only see a boy when he looked at Aden - gave a sigh and plopped himself into the closest chair around the table. Lincoln followed suit, taking the opposite seat. "It's a shame we haven't had the chance to properly talk," Aden lamented. "Indra tells me you've been saving her quite a lot of hard work by helping with Marion and Kalvan's lessons. It's greatly appreciated."

"It's no trouble," Lincoln said with a smile. "They're good kids. You've clearly done an excellent job as their teacher, so just remember that tomorrow."

"Huh, I think I'd take a whole army of novitiates before having to face the twelve Ambassadors again," Aden mused, not serious but not entirely joking either. "The kids have better temperaments."

Lincoln laughed. He couldn't say he disagreed entirely with Aden's assessment. Still, Lincoln found his thoughts turning to the rambunctious band of children back in Arkadia. "You should visit _Skaikru_ , see those kids tearing about on the grass. Tracking mud through the corridors for the rest of the the day when they've run themselves out of energy. After that, the Ambassadors might just seem a little tamer."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aden said. "Will you be going back soon? You must miss home."

"I will, after the ceremony," Lincoln explained. "Staying in Polis, getting to be around my culture again after so long, it's been special. But I am getting ready to return to the people I've left behind."

Aden looked thoughtful. "Indra told me how surprised she was that you've stayed this long. She says you've never really felt like you fit."

Lincoln frowned, "General Indra seems to have talked about me a lot."

"She cares a lot about you," Aden replied with a shrug, "she doesn't say it, but I can tell. I can tell she cares for all of us. You, me, the novitiates. Commander Lexa. Even Clarke."

"Between you and me, I think you might be right, Aden. Though Indra isn't exactly correct about me. Not anymore. Having come here, I realise now that I've missed being in Trikru territory. And with the changes happening around the Kongeda, I think it'll get easier and easier to embrace that part of me again."

"Still, what Indra said gave me an idea and I'd like to pass it onto you. When Luna left, she formally stepped down as leader of Floukru. The clan will need to choose a new Captain upon Commander Lexa's return. I know you have a history with the clan, and it might just be something you'd consider," Aden revealed.

Lincoln squirmed in his chair. "You hardly know me. What makes you think I'd be any good at the job?"

Aden raised an eyebrow, the protégé channeling his mentor again. "I've been trained to read people within moments of first meeting them, Lincoln," Aden said, his voice more insistent, more befitting of the acting Commander than it had been before now. "The Kongeda is flourishing now because it has people like Commander Lexa, General Indra, Bandrona Clarke, and Haihefa Roan, guiding it. I haven't needed to know you very long to see that you are of the same ilk as they." Aden quietened and picked himself up off the chair, putting up a hand to stop Lincoln from following the action as etiquette normally demanded. "It's something for you to think on, Lincoln. Thank you again for your help."

Aden swept away and out of the library, leaving Lincoln alone to mull over the possibility just presented to him. _Floukru Captain._ The thought made Lincoln want to guffaw. He remained silent though, and found the idea lodging itself in his mind more firmly than he cared for it to do.

* * *

"Clarke," Lexa breathed out, the name escaping her lips in a higher pitch than usual, thanks to the wonderful feeling of cool fingers creeping under her shirt. Lexa squirmed as fingertips ghosted over her stomach muscles. "I have a small confession to make," she managed to finish.

She and Clarke had found themselves left alone for an extended amount of time again after the meal. Lexa assumed that Europa wanted to give them time to mull over all they had learned today. Instead, Lexa and Clarke had found themselves giving into more well known ways to pass the time. Lexa was extremely pleased with how well she and Clarke had played the meal to their advantage, getting Europa to open up to them at last. And they'd managed it without a single word of planning passing between them beforehand. Lexa thought that was a small victory worth celebrating, the pride and affection she felt for Clarke's skills worth being demonstrated in a practical fashion.

"Oh?" Clarke prompted after some time, her face finally moving away from the crook of Lexa's neck. "What have you done now?"

"Remember that small squabble we had back in Polis? While we were packing our belongings?" Lexa asked, keeping her voice as blasé as she could so that she didn't reveal her game just yet.

Clarke sat up properly, settling herself on her knees, one leg on either side of Lexa's waist. She raised an eyebrow as she stared down at Lexa. "I wouldn't exactly call it a 'squabble' myself, but yes I do. Quite fondly."

Lexa allowed herself a smirk, before growing bashful. She drew her lips into her mouth and took a breath through her nose. "Well, despite all my protests against the idea, I may have ignored my own advice. And while you were out brooding on the balcony I -"

"Lexa?" Clarke prompted, eyes narrowing in growing suspicion.

" - I went ahead and packed what I said we shouldn't bring with us anyway."

Clarke's accusing squint morphed into an amused one, eyes and nose crinkling as she let out a bright laugh. The noise stopped short however, and Lexa regarded Clarke with concen, wondering what thoughts had robbed Clarke of her amusement. "Wait," Clarke hissed, "do you mean all that time we had together on the ship?"

Lexa winced, grasping for a way to get out of the trap Clarke had set. Or maybe trying to find the best way to figuratively walk herself right into it. "Too much of a good thing, Clarke," she tried.

"Uh-huh," Clarke let out. Her face grew deadly serious. "Where is it?" she demanded.

Lexa raised a brow of her own, throwing an unimpressed look up at Clarke. "If you'd helped me to unpack you would already -" Lexa started to chide. She was halted by a finger being pressed over her lips.

"You insisted that I would be a hindrance," Clarke reminded. She gave a satisfied smile. "But, you did do a wonderful job of unpacking. Just like back home. I know where to look."

With that, Clarke clambered off Lexa and the bed both. Lexa would have felt more disappointed at the loss of contact, if not for the sight of Clarke practically sashaying her way over to the metal drawers. Lexa felt the taut feeling in her stomach increase as Clarke reached her destination. The tension dissipated in an instant, replaced by a wave of frustration as two sharp raps sounded on the door to their quarters. The knocks put a resolute end to Lexa and Clarke's plans for the evening.

Lexa shot up off the mattress, firing the harshest glare she could muster in the direction of the door. She cleared her throat, a hand coming up to sweep over her hair, hoping to right any misplaced strands. She marched over to the door while rearranging her shirt, to make herself look something that resembled presentable. She supposed that there was little to be done about the remaining flush on her cheeks.

Lexa shared a look with Clarke, who was still standing by the drawers, either too stunned or too vexed to move. She waited for Clarke to give her a nod, before reaching out to stab the button on the wall that made the door hiss open. Lexa came face to face with Luna. The two of them regarded one another a second, and Lexa was loathe to observe the barely there smile that crept onto Luna's face.

"I'm sorry, have I interrupted something?" Luna asked.

"No," Lexa stated, completely owning how unconvincing she sounded.

"Not at all," Clarke chimed in, freed from her stupor at last and appearing in Lexa's peripheral vision."We were actually about to go out, weren't we?" Clarke continued. "To the commercial chamber."

Lexa grit her teeth, sticking out an elbow to surreptitiously nudge Clarke in the side to get her to stop talking. It was too late, and Lexa sighed as Luna's lips stopped twitching and committed to a full grin. Lexa had previously warned Clarke of this.

"Oh, well, whatever floats your boat, as they say," Luna teased. "Although, maybe you could delay your 'public appearance' a little while longer. I wanted to invite you both to my quarters."

"Negotiations in your personal quarters?" Lexa asked, perplexed. "That is a little too far in an attempt to be familiar, is it not?"

Luna gave an amused bark. "I'm not inviting you to negotiations, sis. I want you to visit my home. Well, my home down here. My proper one is actually up on the ground," Luna explained.

"That sounds wonderful, Luna. Thank you," it was Clarke who answered for them. Something about the prospect of a social call had caught Lexa totally off-guard. "Give us a moment to get ready?"

"Depends how long you two consider a 'moment'," Luna chortled.

That did garner a response from Lexa. She flashed a dangerous look at Luna, before wordlessly reaching for the door control again. The door snapped closed between them.

* * *

Tovac shuddered as he patted Pollux's rump. Dusk had fallen, and with it so had the temperature. The chilly air was especially biting right by the shores of Nomeitpoda, and the wind rippled over the surface of the water. The boy missed the warmth of the fire pits now, even though he and his older sister had wolfed down their evening meals so that they could tend to Pollux sooner. Getting to water Father's horse was always a special privilege, and as Tovac let his small hand sweep over the steed's cloud white side, he knew that there was nothing else he'd rather be doing.

"Os gapa," Alev soothed the horse as he lapped at the lake water. Tovac's sister stood by the horse's bowed head, her leather foot wraps abandoned on the shore while she dipped her toes. The water was far too cold for Tovac to do the same, but Alev had always been the braver one of the two. It was just as well, considering that she was heir to Father's title. One day, Alev would become Horsemaster of the Caste. As a result, the older she got (she was thirteen now, Tovac nine) the more intense her daily training became. Tovac missed being able to spend the days following his sister around, missed the games they used to play together. Tending to the horses as a team was one rare treat that they could still enjoy, for it counted as useful training for them both.

"He's thirsty tonight," Tovac observed of the horse. The sound of the beast drinking was hypnotic and Tovac yawned loudly.

"The air's been dry," Alev responded, and she swept a hand over Pollux's intricately braided mane. "I can't wait for the spring showers to arrive."

"You just want to get your own horse," Tovac guessed. With winter coming to an end, the four Castes would soon gather for the Spring Ceremony in Feld, the capital of Ingranrona and the only truly permanent settlement the clan had. Feld was the seat of the Grand Horsemaster, overall leader of the territory. Now that Alev had reached adolescence, she would receive her first personal mount from the Grand Horsemaster's herd during the celebrations. Tovac knew that it was a day his sister had been waiting for for a long time.

Ingranrona took the care of its horses very seriously. Every warrior and livestock drover had a deep connection to their own mount. But perhaps of most importance was the relationship between a Horsemaster and their horse. Together, they protected their Caste and clan. While Pollux was a well-mannered beast, gentle and calm as he drank the lake water, if you put him in charging formation with the rest of the Caste's war horses, then he would be the fiercest beast on the field by a significant margin. This knowledge made it particularly alarming for Tovac when Pollux's large head shot up from the water. The horse began to whinnie, his front hooves kicking nervously and making splashes.

"Pollux, easy," Alev tried to soothe the beast, but Pollux only grew more agitated. Tovac gave a cry as Pollux reared up, landing back in the shallows with such force that he left Alev drenched. "Pollux, what's wrong, boy?" Alev asked, her voice growing fearful.

"Alev," Tovac whispered her name, increasingly certain that something was very, very wrong all of a sudden. The siblings found themselves turning away from the lake simultaneously, looking back to the western bank of the settlement where everyone had gathered to eat. Tovac's young eyes failed to comprehend the chaos he saw erupting in the camp, but Alev reacted for both of them.

"Tovac!" she screamed his name, coming out of the water to grab at her brother. Tovac yelped as Alev tried to lift him. "Tovac get on Pollux, now!"

Tovac's hands grappled against the beast's sides, trying to find a purchase on the unsaddled horse. He felt Alev pushing him up by his rear, and eventually scrambled on top of Pollux. "Alev?" he asked, turning his head over his shoulder to try to understand what was going on. The sounds of screaming began to carry in the wind, and he saw a whole row of tents in the distance go up in orange flames. Behind the dancing inferno, he could see a great swarm of something horrible descending on his home. It still made no sense, but Tovac started to cry nonetheless.

"We're under attack, Tovac. We _have_ to get to Father," Alev cried out, as she mounted Pollux much more skillfully despite the horse's now frantic movements. Alev pressed her front to Tovac's back. He was glad of the extra support, finding it difficult to keep his balance on the horse's broad back with his small legs. Alev wasted no time in kicking her heels into Pollux's sides, spurring the horse right into a gallop, directing him by his mane away from the west, towards the Horsemaster's tent on the eastern bank.

"Come on, Pollux!" Alev urged loudly, right in Tovac's ear. The boy hissed and felt his stomach turning as Pollux jostled them about, hooves thundering over and around the sandy lakeshore. Tovac tried to look behind them, past Alev's body, but she prevented him from doing so with an insistent hand on his cheek. "No, Tovac. Don't look. You don't want to see," she said. "We have to get to father and get help. Don't look back, strikbro, don't look -"

Alev's pleas were cut short by a sharp gasp. Whereas Tovac had been unable to comprehend what was happening before, now events seemed to unfold in slow motion, so that the boy knew exactly what was going on. His face contorted into shock and despair as his attention dropped from Alev's pained face to the arrowhead that had burst out of her chest. Alev slumped lifelessly off the still charging Pollux, her body crashing to the ground and soon left behind. It left Tovac with a clear view of the unknown archer who had fired the shot and killed his big sister. Tovac let out a great wail, scrabbling to keep his balance on Pollux, turning forwards again. Adrenaline coursed through his young body, telling him to keep going despite what had just happened. He let out another yelp as an arrow sang past his head, and Tovac bent at the waist, keeping his body flush against Pollux's back, feeling the horse's muscles straining beneath him.

At last, Father's tent was in reach and Tovac spotted the Horsemaster giving frantic orders to his honor guard. Tovac called out to him in desperation; "Nontu! Nontu!"

"Tovac?" Horsemaster Carver responded to the sound of his son's voice immediately, rushing over and fearlessly standing before Pollux to stop the beast's charge. Pollux skidded to a halt, neighing loudly.

"Nontu, we have to go! We have to fetch help," Tovac wailed, not daring to right himself on Pollux's back. His father approached and stroked a hand over Tovac's hair to soothe him, before looking beyond the horse. The hopelessness that Tovac saw in Carver's eyes was one of the most awful sights he'd ever witnessed.

"You're right, son," Carver agreed. He turned back to the small gathering of people he had been giving instructions to. "Forget the charge, it's too late. Our only hope is to send warning to Polis."

"We won't abandon our Caste, Horsemaster!" one of the guards protested.

Tovac heard his father growl. "Then stay and die honorably with the rest of the camp, if you wish. I will ride to the relay hut myself," Carver spat. With that, Carver mounted Pollux. Tovac finally lifted himself up and pressed himself close to his father's chest.

With a kick, Pollux moved off again, charging away just in time as the sounds of slaughter grew ever closer to the remaining tents of the settlement. The horse did not move quite fast enough for Tovac to miss hearing the death throes of the people they had just left behind, as they were overrun by an army far too large to stop. Tovac's constant tears came harder, sobs wracking his body. Carver let go of Pollux's mane with one hand, and wrapped that arm tightly around his son.

At last, the awful noises of the slaughter began to fade, and then Tovac's crying, the sound of galloping hooves and Pollux's laboured snorts were the only sounds. That was until Carver spoke.

"Tovac, where's your sister? Where's Alev?" Horsemaster Carver asked the question Tovac had been dreading. Tovac turned his teary face, looked up into his father's eyes. But Tovac could only wail louder in response.

* * *

The only notable difference from the outside between Luna's quarters and the ones Lexa and Clarke had been given, was that Luna's door appeared larger in its frame. Luna took the plastic rectangle she normally wore around her neck - Lexa remembered the term 'keycard' - and swiped it through a panel to open the door.

"Please, come in," Luna ushered her two guests through the door, and Lexa took her first real glimpse into Luna's life in Europa.

Just like the door, the quarters were larger inside too. Much larger, with multiple doors leading off to other rooms, where Lexa and Clarke's quarters only had the bedroom and the bathroom. Lexa supposed that it made sense for Luna to have a nicer abode. It might not be her full-time home, but it was a fully functioning one. Still, the grandeur of it surprised Lexa. She could tell that Luna had made a real impression on Europa's President, assumed that Dominique and Luna were great friends. But Luna was still an outsider, and Lexa couldn't help but wonder what Luna had done to achieve such status as her quarters betrayed. The answer came quicker than Lexa expected, in the form of a man appearing through one of the interior doors.

"Commander Lexa, Clarke, hello," Delegate Gabor welcomed, crossing through the living space to reach the arriving guests. He did not come alone. In his arms, Gabor held a baby that had to be under a year old. And practically attached to his leg was another child, a girl of about three. She was the miniature double of Luna, except perhaps for the shyness.

Lexa blinked, looking from Gabor, to the children, then to Luna. She found herself gasping and then smiled brightly at her old friend. "Luna."

Luna gave a nonchalant shrug, like she was entirely aware that such an important thing should have been revealed sooner. "Lexa, Clarke, I know you've met him before, but allow me to introduce you to my husband, Gabor. In his arms is our son, Milos. And this little monster," Luna said, motioning for the girl to come out from behind her father's legs. The girl approached and Luna put both hands on her shoulders. "Is our daughter, Indra."

" _Spechou,_ bigasis," Lexa said with absolute sincerity, and happiness, "It appears I'm a little late on all three counts, but congratulations to you. You too, Delegate Gabor." Lexa motioned her head to the delegate.

Delegate Gabor shook his head, "No, no. Gabor. Gabor is fine," he insisted. He motioned to his son, who was babbling at an ever increasing volume, threatening to cry. "I have to..." (he mimed the action of feeding Milos). "Babies have no manners."

"Put him down to sleep and come join us when you are done, amor," Luna said, moving to her husband to give him a quick peck.

While the spouses shared their moment, Lexa's attention drifted to Clarke. Their eyes met, and Lexa could see the same awe in Clarke's gaze. Lexa didn't know whether it was tragically humorous, or vice versa, that she and Clarke had not once entertained the notion that Luna would have a family waiting for her here in Europa. It was the simplest explanation for Luna's protectiveness, the strongest motivation behind her refusal to divulge too much about the society. So, of course, Lexa and Clarke had missed it entirely.

The protection of one's own family, of the few over the many, was something that Lexa had to appreciate as a leader. It was the driving force behind most people's actions. But not her own. She was the one who had to sacrifice, so that she may look out for the majority. What she and Clarke shared already defied all expectations. But this totally domestic scene, for how simple and common it must be both in Europa and back home, was not something that they could bank on achieving themselves. Nothing so plaintively ordinary awaited their futures. Lexa thought she caught a hint of sadness in Clarke's stare, though it might just have been her own jolt of melancholy reflecting back at her. Her focus drifted away towards the walls of the quarters over Clarke's shoulders. Then, at the distinct feeling of having another pair of eyes fixed upon her, Lexa dropped her attention lower and found Indra staring up at her.

"Hi," Lexa greeted gently, giving the young girl a friendly smile and a wave. Indra looked up at her mother, uncertain.

"It's ok, Indra. This is my friend, Lexa. And her girlfriend, Clarke," Luna assured, also speaking to Indra in gonasleng to confirm Indra would be able to understand the visitors.

"Hey," Clarke said with a more awkward wave of her own. She was always a little more wary around children. It had taken her weeks to muster the courage to offer to help with the novitiate's lessons. Lexa never understood her nerves. Both Marion and Kalvan adored Clarke. Most especially when she forgoed teaching them about healing, in favor of art lessons.

"I've known Lexa since she was younger than you," Luna told Indra.

Indra blinked in the information. "I'm three and a half," she announced brightly to Lexa.

"That's a great age," Lexa replied.

"Come on and get yourselves comfortable," Luna urged now that all introductions were out of the way and her young daughter was settled with the arrival of strangers. "Shall I take your coats? We keep it pretty warm in here for Milos."

"Thanks," Clarke responded, taking her tan leather jacket off quickly.

Lexa's formal coat took longer, and Lexa was relieved when it was off, more aware of just how hot she was now that Luna had pointed the temperature out. Luna claimed both garments from her guests, and moved off to store them in a cloakroom, leaving Lexa and Clarke momentarily alone with Indra.

"Come sit," Indra demanded, bolder now the child understood what was going on. She marched over to the seating area and pointed enthusiastically to the couch.

"Is my daughter bossing you about? No idea where she gets that from," Luna's voice came from inside the cloakroom. "Please feel free to make yourselves at home. Don't worry about your boots, not like there's mud to worry about down here," she called.

With the invitation given from the correct person, Lexa and Clarke followed Indra and simultaneously claimed a place on the couch. Lexa guessed that Clarke was just as keenly aware as she was of Indra watching them the entire time.

"You have pretty hair," Indra announced. She was looking at Clarke.

Lexa had to smile, a little surprised that Indra had engaged with Clarke first, when Lexa could feel Clarke's wariness coming off her in waves. She couldn't really argue with the assessment however.

Clarke gave a nervy laugh, "Thanks, I - uh - I grew it myself," she responded. "I like your hair too. It's really curly."

"That's because Maman and Papa have curly hair," Indra replied sagely. "So I have _extra_ curly hair."

Lexa laughed at the sound reasoning of a child. Indra was bright for her young age, though Lexa supposed that made sense given who Indra's mother was. As a nightblood, Luna had been expected to mature quickly, and you passed on what you knew to your own offspring. Lexa found herself wondering if Luna had passed her black blood onto either of her children.

"This is cool," Indra started up again. Apparently Clarke had just entered herself into a battle of compliments. It was her tattoo sleeve that Indra poked a finger at, revealed by Clarke's rolled up sleeve. "Did you draw it on?"

"I didn't put it on my arm, no," Clarke admitted, "but I did draw the pictures first, for the man who did to copy from."

Lexa noted the way that Indra's eyed widened, like she'd just heard some amazing news. "Maman!" Indra called out.

Summoned, Luna finally appeared in the seating area. She was carrying a tray of drinks with her, which she deposited on the low metal table set before the couch. "Yes?"

"Can I take Clarke to my room? We are going to draw," Indra announced, without bothering to consult with Clarke first.

Lexa turned to Clarke and gave a shrug, far too amused to be slighted that she had not made quite the same impression on Indra.

"Well, did you ask Clarke if she wants to do that, first?" Luna prompted.

Indra groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. The action only gave Lexa more flashbacks to a young, equally sassy Luna. "Clarke, do you want to draw with me?" Indra asked, "I have felt tips _and_ crayons," she added to sweeten the deal. There was surely no getting past the child.

"She has felt tips and crayons," Lexa repeated with a gasp, despite knowing what only the latter were.

"How could I say no to that? If your Mom doesn't mind?" Clarke answered.

Luna gave a laugh, "Not at all. Have fun. Indra, make sure everything goes tidy when you're done," she said.

"Yes, Maman. Come on, Clarke," Indra grabbed at Clarke's wrist and tugged, impatient to get right to whatever masterpiece she had in mind for them to produce. With little choice but to comply, Clarke rose off the couch and let herself be pulled along and out of the room.

Lexa watched them go with an unrestrained grin on her face, feeling a huge wave of affection for her niron in the wake of Clarke making such an impression on Indra. Children were almost always much more discerning about character than adults managed to be. Lexa had to believe that any lingering doubts Luna might have about Clarke's trustworthiness had just been effectively quashed by her own three year old daughter. She did a double take when Luna read her expression as something completely different.

"You're not getting broody, are you?" Luna asked, voice light. She collapsed into an armchair across from the couch.

Lexa felt herself gulp and she tensed her jaw. "Luna," she muttered.

Realising the complex implications of her joking, Luna's face grew serious, "Right, stupid question," Luna realised, and then, in her best impression of Titus, "the whole clan is your child, it's traditions your spouse, to whom you must remain ever faithful."

Lexa wanted to laugh but couldn't. Not a day went by that she didn't count her fortune at finding someone who didn't mind sharing Lexa with the whole Kongeda. Just as she would never dream of coming between Clarke and her duties to _Skaikru_. That careful balance would always require sacrifices from both of them. A quiet, stable family life right at the top of that list. These thoughts seemed to weigh her down more than usual, sitting on Luna's couch in the home that Luna had made for herself, Luna's life being so far away from the responsibilities that had landed on Lexa's shoulders in the end.

"Did you tell Indra that you have a daughter named for her?" Lexa asked, changing the topic.

"I didn't," Luna admitted. "Would you tell her for me when you return home?"

"Of course," Lexa promised.

Silence fell between the friends, until Luna broke it, "It still feels like I don't know where to start with you, Lexa," she professed, maybe a little sadly.

"Now that I know what you are protecting over here," Lexa said, wanting Luna to be certain that her troubling decisions were at last understood. Even if Lexa wasn't sure yet if they'd ever be properly forgiven. "Maybe you could at last tell me the tale of how you got here, after you sailed away from the shores of your old home." Lexa gestured around at the space, to indicate that she wished to hear everything, and be brought right up to date.

Luna hummed. "I'm afraid it isn't all that interesting. I made land further north than where we sailed to. Found the same desolation you did. I was living off the land, making my way further into the continent day by day, when I was found by a group of prospectors from Europa. Of course, they knew I wasn't one of them immediately, and I was promptly sent into quarantine down here in Chambre Centrale."

"They never tried to attack you?" Lexa asked.

"No. Europa has always swayed towards curiosity, over hostility to the unknown. Maybe it's a product of the way most people came to exist down here. Or a direct answer to how the world ended. Either way, once I was deemed safe to be among the other people, I was let out of quarantine and properly introduced to the President," Luna explained.

"President Dominique?"

"No, her predecessor, Paolo. Dominique was voted into power a few months after my arrival, as a direct result of Paolo being opposed to making contact with the Kongeda. Word of my arrival had spread through the whole society. The people of Europa wanted the certainty of knowing all about the people across the sea. Dominique was the Prospector Delegate until she was chosen as the new President. Chosen because she openly supported first contact. We've all been waiting for this moment for a long time, Lexa."

Though Lexa had already judged President Dominique to be a skilled leader, finding that she had played such a large part in getting the two societies to this point set Lexa more at ease. She had always wondered just how much Luna had pushed for the meeting to happen. If the idea of peaceful contact came from Europa itself, then Lexa found it a little easier to imagine that the society's government would not want to betray the will of it's people. But then, there was always the slight risk that they might.

"I'm back," Gabor's voice cut in. He took the remaining armchair for himself. Lexa waited courteously as Luna and Gabor spoke to one another in Europan. Though she didn't understand a word, Lexa smiled at the sound of husband and wife laughing together at something Gabor had said.

"So, how did you two meet?" Lexa enquired once the couple grew quiet. She was keen to move the conversation back away from politics. It was quite ridiculous, but being sat on a social call in the home of her friend, of her big sister, was still a little unbelievable. A most unexpected gift. They were never supposed to have reached this point in their lives, to have gained what they had. Yet here they both were. She and Luna may have drifted far apart in many ways, but Lexa was now sure of one thing. They would always, always remain a pair of troublesome rule breakers.

* * *

Night had long since fallen by the time the team assembled to accompany Chancellor Sinclair to Polis were ready to leave. The activity in the ruined settlement had come to a standstill, the survivors gathering in a large clump ready to see the rover on its way. Raven had been chosen to drive the vehicle, since it was the one she had adjusted for herself. Now, she scanned the many faces in the waiting crowd, seeing the same exhaustion that she felt in most of the faces she saw. When everyone had been accounted for, whether they were alive or not, that hadn't put a stop to the work. Equipment still needed to be salvaged from the wreck, and it was this task that everyone would return to once the rover was gone. It was unlikely that any of Skaikru would be getting sleep tonight, even if anybody felt like they could. Despite her tiredness, Raven still felt wired herself, pumped up on adrenaline that she hoped would last throughout the drive to Polis.

Plans had been put into place for Arkadia's survivors to journey to the farm in the morning, where they could pack into the shelter of the farmhouse. Raven guessed that everyone would be keen to leave the wrecked sight behind them, but it was too dangerous to make the journey on foot in the middle of the night. Besides that, the second rover was due back to Arkadia from the farm at any time, carrying with it the few farmers that still lived in Arkadia. And Jaha too. Raven recalled hearing that he was going to hold his second support group tonight. The thought made her sick. Jaha would have to wait for his next session, but when he got around to it, Raven could imagine many more people would feel the need to attend. For now though, it was the other rover they needed even more than emotional support. The vehicle would come in handy for transporting those with the most serious injuries. Raven winced as she imagined the panic Bryan, Miller Senior, and Mrs Green will feel when they approach the ruined settlement in the rover and see what has become of their home. At least they would go on to find Miller and Monty alive. Raven located Monty in the crowd as she thought about him, and felt compelled to start making her goodbyes.

"I'm going to get the old girl fired up," she mentioned to Chancellor Sinclair, tired of standing next to him feeling like a spare part. The Chancellor paid her little mind, still discussing the planned move to the farm for the nth time to Abby.

Decided, Raven left Sinclair and Abby to it, trusting that the Chancellor would make it to the rover in due course. She jogged her way over to the crowd, heading right for Monty, Raion, and Harper. She realised that it was an almost identical scene to when she had arrived back in Arkadia from Polis, though the situation was now reversed and the reflection much more somber. Still, Raven had to stop and grin at the sight of Monty standing close to Raion, each of them holding one of Jonathan's twins. Raven opened her mouth to tease, but found she was unable to. The knowledge of why Monty and Raion had been entrusted with such a precious task hit Raven full force, making her feel winded. Her grin contorted into a deep frown.

"They're not that scary, Raven. At least not when they are sleeping," Monty chided on Raven's behalf, though the smile he gave did not reach his eyes. Raven knew that he was totally aware of her dark train of thought.

Still at a loss for words, Raven merely drew closer to Monty, approaching him from the side so that she could give him a careful hug. "I'll see you soon," she managed to get out at last. Raven landed a peck on Monty's cheek to make up for the awkwardness of their embrace. Monty's subsequent groan at her affection fired up Raven's urge to make fun again, and she raised a hand and thoroughly ruffled Monty's hair.

"Drive safely, Raven. And give those stuffy politicians in the capital hell for us," Monty requested. "Or, you know, grovel to them as needed."

Raven gave a salute. "Come on, Sinclair is taking myself _and_ Octavia. We've got this," she assured.

"Sounds like we're going to be missing a right spectacle, Monty," Harper chimed in now, edging closer until the small group had formed their exclusive circle among the larger crowd. Raven's attention turned to Harper at the sound of her voice, and she felt a wave of sadness pass over her as they locked eyes.

Harper had to stay behind as acting Guard Captain while Miller was out of action. Though Raven knew that Harper would take her duties very seriously, and play a large part in getting the survivors moved safely to the farm, she got the impression that Harper would still have preferred her own spot in the rover. She probably would have called shotgun, in fact.

The two of them took stock of one another a moment, Raven overcome with an immense feeling of gratitude for all Harper had done to help her through the aftermath of the collapse. Their parting stung more for the fact that they'd barely left one another's sides throughout the whole ordeal. Silently, Raven barrelled forward and Harper caught her in a tight hug.

"Thank you," Raven whispered, perching her chin on Harper's shoulder. "Thanks for sticking by me."

"Wish I still could," Harper muttered back, confirming what Raven already knew. "You just remember what we talked about, before all this happened, ok? And look after yourself. Please," Harper implored.

Raven felt tears forming as she heard Harper's true request under the spoken words. Harper was asking her not to blame herself for what had happened. She sniffled and nodded meekly against Harper's shoulder. Raven felt Harper tighten their hug in response, making the plastic armor of Harper's guard uniform dig into her chest uncomfortably. It did nothing to perturb Raven, however, and they stayed that way for some time. As if the harder and longer they held onto one another, the more likely it might be that all the destruction around them would just melt away. Finally, Raven pulled out of the hug. When she did, she saw that Harper had started crying, too.

"Urgh," Raven moaned, "look at us. It's not like it's the parting of the fellowship, or something."

"I mean, it kind of is," Monty argued back. He was right. The three of them had stuck together for an entire year, and upon their return home they still hadn't grown weary of the company of the other two. If that wasn't a fellowship of sorts, Raven didn't know what was.

"What the hell are you both talking about?" Harper asked obliviously.

Raven's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"What?" Monty scoffed simultaneously.

"The _Lord of the Rings?_ " Raven prompted, disbelieving.

Harper pulled a face, "You mean you nerds actually read those books?" Harper gave a lopsided smile, "Aren't they just about people running over fields? Which is basically what we've ended up doing way too much of down here," she continued to snipe.

Raven mustered as much offence into her expression as she could manage. She had in fact read all of the books, several times over. Those tales, along with almost every book the Ark had on its mainframe, had been little beacons of hope throughout Raven's childhood. And she would not hear a single word against them. "You're such a jock, Harper," Raven hit back, shaking her head in disappointment that wasn't entirely feigned.

Harper could only shrug and look bashfully to the ground.

"Well, time for me to take the ring to Mordor," Raven quipped. It felt like the longer she stayed facing her friends, the more likely it would be that Raven would change her mind and simply refuse to go. So, with little ceremony, Raven offered a wave and turned about, fighting the urge to look back the entire walk to the rover. Raven ground her teeth as she opened the door and climbed in behind the wheel.

"Ready to go?" Octavia's voice sounded from the back of the vehicle.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Raven let out, trying to keep her voice from cracking. She looked at Octavia through the rear view mirror. Even Octavia's reflection was exuding an impatience to leave, in absolute contrast to Raven's reluctance.

The passenger side door snapped open and Chancellor Sinclair climbed into his seat. He peered into the back of the rover to his assembled team and gave a nod to them all, before looking at Raven.

"We'd best not delay any longer," Sinclair urged.

Raven motioned her head in agreement and turned the key in the ignition, bringing the rover to life. She was about to release the handbrake, when Sinclair stopped her by catching her hand in midair.

"Sorry I blanked you earlier," the Chancellor apologised, making it known that he had heard Raven after all.

"It's fine," Raven answered sincerely, "you've got a lot on your plate."

"We all do," Sinclair stressed. His expression turned softer, more caring. "Are you sure you're up for this journey, Chief?" he asked, keeping his voice low even though it wouldn't stop the people in the back of the rover from overhearing.

Raven made a noncommittal face. "Sure, I have to be," she sighed. The answer didn't satisfy herself, let alone Sinclair. Raven felt herself sit straighter in the driver's seat. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Good. Because you know what happened wasn't your fault," Sinclair went on. "That wreck must have been unstable for ages. If you hadn't gotten us ready to start work on the arch so quickly, that thing could have collapsed on us when the main building was occupied."

"Right, not as much of a screw up as it could have been," Raven muttered, though she was really trying her hardest to take Sinclair's words, and Harper's similar ones, onboard. Though it was difficult not to feel guilty, now that the red mist had lifted from Raven's view, she knew that she shouldn't tear herself up over this. That what the Chancellor was saying rang completely true. Yet being aware that such behavior was destructive, and actually avoiding said behavior, were two vastly different things.

The rover growled as Raven's foot found and lightly pressed the accelerator. With her mind starting to feel overfull, she found that she was growing a little more eager to get going. If anything, the drive to Polis would give her time to settle her thoughts. It was one of the reasons why she had come to love driving so much. All she had to do was to forget about the help they were going to have to beg for upon reaching their destination.

Raven felt Sinclair let go of her hand, silently giving her the go-ahead. She took off the handbrake and gave the rover some gas, guiding the vehicle the rest of the way out of the gates and away from the disaster zone. Raven kept the pace steady for now, so that the gathered crowd could wave them off for a good while and better enjoy their respite from the work that awaited them.

With the way ahead clear for some distance, Raven let her attention drift to her wing mirror. She saw the reflection of the crowd as it moved as one, coming to stand between the gates to watch the vehicle go. At the front of the crowd, growing smaller and smaller with each turn of the wheels, were Monty and Harper. Seeing them heading the group made Raven hyper aware of just how much she hated abandoning the camp again, despite how necessary the mission was. Raven's hands gripped tighter to the steering wheel, and she floored the accelerator before she could think about putting the rover into reverse. Arkadia had already taken several paces backwards today. She didn't need to add to them.


End file.
